


The Second Dragon Age

by cecania



Series: The Second Dragon Age [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-22 19:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 129,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3740320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecania/pseuds/cecania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officially, the world of Thedas knows the sixteenth Age as the Golden Age. Magic and technology thrive side by side, growing steadily after the last three Ages and the devastation of the Fury and Smoke Ages before them. The people of Thedas have known nearly three hundred years of peace and prosperity thanks to the advancements in both fields. Despite setbacks, they always carry onward. </p><p>But many have taken to calling it the Second Dragon Age. With the sudden resurgence of dragons across the land and magic in a state of upheaval, that would have been more than enough to warrant the name. Added to that, tensions are on the rise between every major religious, political, military, and magical power across the land. War is on the horizon and with the weapons now in the hands of the people of Thedas, will this be the last Age?</p><p>Modern retelling of the ending of Dragon Age 2 and Inquisition. Main focus on Cullen/F!Trevelyan relationship, side relationships will include Dorian/M!Trevelyan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan

 

            Idly flipping through the newspaper, Cullen realised that it was probably a bad idea. Most of the headlines hadn’t been anything short of terrible for the past few weeks and it was depressing to read the stories. Attacks in the streets no matter what part of town you were in. Buildings being set on fire in Lowtown. Vandalisms and break ins in Hightown. People going missing from Darktown. The city was falling apart faster than anyone could keep it together.

            The radio on his shoulder buzzed with static and he absently reached up to turn it off. He wasn’t on active duty today so there was no reason for him to even be wearing the thing but it was habit to put on the full uniform whenever he came in to the Barracks. Of course, he was just going to have to change into combat fatigues in a few hours and the uniform was essentially pointless to have on.

            He set the paper down with a sigh. Maybe he’d been in Kirkwall for too long, but he’d already transferred from one country to another and wasn’t sure he wanted to adapt to another location. Kirkwall definitely wasn’t home but when you spent ten years in one place it was hard to move on. And he couldn’t justify leaving when there was still so much to do in the city. Leaving now…would never sit right with him.

            But what was one man supposed to do when the problem started at the top?

            Cullen rubbed his face for a moment before flipping the paper over. He wasn’t overly surprised to see that one of the puzzles on the back was already half-filled in, with pen, since the paper had been left in the lunch room. But it was irritating to know that they had left it half-finished since that meant they’d screwed up somewhere. He glanced over the table and sighed when all he saw were pens.

            Picking one up, he folded the paper in half before starting on the crossword clues. He had come in too early again and had time to kill. The Barracks shrink had suggested that doing the puzzles would help relax him when he got too wound up. So far, all they had done was wind him up more. He got too focused on certain clues, knowing he should know the answer. Most of the time he always started with the intention of finishing all of it and barely got half way through it before his irritation got the better of him.

            He slowly filled in the words, wishing he had a pencil in case he made a mistake and actually proud of the progress he was making. The shrink had mentioned skipping words if he couldn’t get them after a few moments but he hated leaving anything unfinished. It didn’t look right to him to just leave a few empty boxes in a corner when he was sure he could-

            Cullen jumped slightly when a file was dropped loudly on the table and looked up. “Cassandra,” he said, his brows drawing together. “Ah, how long have you been there?”

            “Not long.”

            He wasn’t sure he believed her. He got absorbed in the puzzles sometimes and didn’t pay much attention to what was going on around him. It was why he tried to avoid doing them in public, grabbing a paper at the start of his shift to take home with him at the end of his day. Doing one in the break room was just asking for trouble. “What’s that?” he asked, looking at the file that was sitting just above the paper.

            “You’re going to want to read that.” 

            Cullen frowned and pushed the paper aside in favour of the stack of papers. “Is it about one of the mages applying to work here?” he asked.

            “Just read it, Cullen.”

            He made a noise and flipped it open. Standard Chantry photo, application filled out in a neat hand that progressively got a little less neat the longer the applicant wrote. “Elora Trevelyan,” he muttered, reading the name. “Trevelyan….”

            “Free Marchers, out of Ostwick and Hercinia mostly. Gaius Trevelyan was a military leader of proficiency and he’s head of the house.”

            Head of the house meaning noble. Fantastic. Another rich brat looking to fill their spare time with something their parents had probably bought them. Except…no. That couldn’t be right. The applicants would all be mages and nobles weren’t always keen on having a mage pop up in their bloodlines. Although, he knew that some families still got their kids through the private schools mages were sent to, those kids using their name to get special treatment and never really accomplishing much.

            Which was not what he needed in a mage partner.

            Any Templar who ran missions outside of the city was paired with a mage to watch their backs. There was usually a full team that went on runs, but the core of it was a mage and Templar pair. He was down a mage and been stuck on routine missions in the city while he’d had to wait for the next set of applicants to come through, for enough of them to apply to the Barracks for the Knight-Commander to set up a field run with them.

            “I don’t want to babysit a mage, Cassandra,” he sighed, starting to put the file down.

            “Read it.”

            He was reading it and he hadn’t seen anything that would warrant her giving him this. He hadn’t planned on reviewing the applicants until it was closer to the time for the test run. There was no point in pinning your hopes on one of them since he didn’t get to choose who the mage going with him was. And this one was probably a spoiled br-

            Staring at the papers in front of him, Cullen was sure he had read it wrong. There was no way he could have read that right. He picked up the page and brought it closer to him, as if that would help him understand what was actually in front of him. “A Knight-Enchanter?” he said, looking up. “There’s a Knight-Enchanter in the applicants?”

            Cassandra nodded, moving to lean against the doorframe of the break room. “More than that, she’s not a raw recruit. She’s had experience in the field and they were all Templar co-ops.”

            He whistled lowly and leaned back in his chair, his mind turning over that information. “Why isn’t she already within the Order then?” he asked quietly. Knight-Enchanters were rare and the Chantry held onto them with a death grip usually. How had this one gotten away from them? And if she had, why was she coming back?

            “She’s got a sealed record and has been out for five years. I contacted the Lord Seeker when I saw the flag, but he said it wasn’t anything to worry about.”

            “Do you believe him?”

            She made a noise. Tensions were high in the Seekers and they both knew it. Cassandra had been running more missions with him lately and he felt like she was testing him for something but he had no idea what. And of course, the tensions at the top were surely trickling down to the bottom and now Templars and mages alike were getting agitated. “I am uncertain,” she admitted. “Her file is good outside of that, top of her class from the Ostwick Academy, noble family that has connections beyond just the Free Marches, premier researcher on lyrium. But with a service record like hers, why did she leave? Why is she coming back?”

            “Good questions to ask her, provided we get her,” Cullen added in a mutter. They weren’t the only group that was down a mage and everyone would be clamouring to get the Knight-Enchanter when they found out about her. If they found out about her. “When is the field run?”

            “Three hours.”

            He sighed. More than enough time for the others to hear the news. “What do you think our odds are for getting her for the run?” It wasn’t a sure fire thing, but usually the mage in question stayed with the Templar they did the run with. The Knight-Commanders didn’t like putting money into doing multiple runs so they were careful with their selections to make sure once was enough.

            “Good actually. The only logical choices for her are you or Samson because you’re both seasoned enough to know how to work with a Knight-Enchanter. Everyone else doesn’t have the experience or the skill set to use her properly. Maker, she would probably outrank them with the amount of missions she ran.”

            He had noticed. Whoever her Templar had been had been good, enough successes to continually be in the field and taking her with him. That didn’t happen unless you had a stellar team that knew each other inside and out. He was willing to bet that they’d been trained together at the Ostwick Academy.

            “She’ll either go to you or him,” Cassandra said firmly.

            Cullen pursed his lips. Samson had been a Templar longer than him, had been stationed in Kirkwall for longer than him, but the man was starting to become unstable and might not be going on many more missions. Pairing a Knight-Enchanter with him would be a waste of her skills. Of course, he’d seen his fair share of shit in his career and the Knight-Commanders could decide to kick him as well if any of his evaluations came back worse than they were. He liked to think he handled the shit in his life better than Samson but there were several nights where he woke well past midnight, drenched in sweat and panting for air from the memories clogging his mind. He kept lyrium beside the bed for the nights that happened and prayed that it drowned out the memories long enough for him to rest. It didn’t always work but it was the only solution he had.

            Come to think of it, it might not be fair to pair her with either of them but they were the senior Templars so Cassandra was right in her call.

            Flipping to the front of the file again, he stared at the basic bio for her and the picture clipped to it. The standard Chantry ones did little for anyone, made them all look like prisoners, but it was hard to miss the shadows in her eyes. Something was driving her to come back and it would either break her or push her harder. “She here yet?” he asked quietly.

            “Knight-Captain Rutherford,” Cassandra said sternly. “You know as well as I do that Templars are not allowed to associate with the mages before the run.”

            “I only asked if she was here yet, not where she was,” he said dryly.

            “What makes you think I would know?”

            “Cassandra, you know practically everything that goes on in this building and the six in either direction from here.”

            She made a sound of disgust before waving her hand. “She is here,” she said quietly. “But stay away from her, Cullen. If you talk to her, you’ll lose her before you get to the run.”

            “I know,” he muttered, picking up the file to flip through it again without really looking at it. He needed to keep his hands busy right now because his thoughts were starting to tumble one over the other at the prospect of such an accomplished mage. What could he do with a Knight-Enchanter as his partner?

            “I will see you in three hours, Cullen.”

            “Cassandra,” he said firmly as she started away, “I want her.”

            She looked at him over her shoulder. “I know. I will see if there is anything I can do.”

            He nodded before flipping back to the first page and looking at her picture. Dark hair pulled back and caught at the back of her head, but several strands were framing her face, curling against her cheeks. She was pale without being sickly like so many people in Kirkwall seemed to be these days, afraid of the world outside their homes. Her file said she was physically small but if she was Knight-Enchanter, she wasn’t to be underestimated and people probably did that all the time.

            “Rutherford, you hear?”

            His gaze flicked up to the latest person to come shuffling through the door. “That would depend on what you’re talking about,” he said evenly. He was sure he had liked Samson at one point, maybe. He wasn’t sure anymore.

            “Don’t play dumb, Cullen. With that Seeker running around after you, you know everything before it happens in this place.”

            Cullen tracked the man as he came into the room, heading straight for the fridge. “I do not.”

            “Uh huh, then how come you got the file on the Knight-Enchanter before everyone else?”

            “Clearly not before you,” he said calmly, closing the file in his hands.

            Samson ignored the comment as he dug through the fridge loudly. “Pretty little thing but have to wonder what she did to get that sealed file and five years of Chantry paying her to do nothing.”

            Cullen paused in getting up from his chair and swivelled to look at Samson. The other Templar was leaning back against the counter now, eating something but watching Cullen. “How do you know that?”

            “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

            Clamping his lips together, Cullen stood up and left the room. “See you on the field,” he said over his shoulder.

            “You won’t get her, Rutherford! I’ll make sure of it!”

            “Shit,” he muttered. Simulation runs sucked all the way around; whether you were paired with experienced teammates or raw recruits. He knew that he had asked Cassandra to influence the decision in his favour, to get him the Knight-Enchanter, but the Knight-Commanders would always have the final say. They would look at evaluations, physical and psychological, and determine where each mage should be placed. Some wouldn’t be because they didn’t fit with the groups, their files kept for the next time field runs were held. All he could do was pray that he was a better candidate than the others and remember he did have one thing going for him that Samson didn’t.

            His last mage had only died; Samson’s had been made Tranquil. A shame on any Templar that fought alongside a mage because it was their duty to keep them safe from all harm and having one made Tranquil meant you had failed that responsibility.

            He paused outside of a small room he could use to just sit in for a while and thought about that. He had worked with Spirit Healers mostly, as did most Templars. They made sense to have as a fall back because of their healing abilities, but a Knight-Enchanter was talented in offensive and defensive spells. Not to mention he had heard rumours that the truly skilled could craft barriers and spells that would prevent a person from dying. To have someone like that watching your back? You’d be damn near unstoppable and they’d be priceless.

            Could Trevelyan do that? Work magic to keep her team from dying?

            But if she could and was that talented, what was in that damn sealed file of hers that would make the Chantry take her out of active duty.

 

* * *

 

            “Mages that accompany Templars on missions outside of city walls are expected to pull their own. The vast majority of missions you will see will be tracking down apostates who refuse to live by the Chanty’s laws for mages. Because they are lawless, they will summon demons and use blood magic to prevent you from taking them into custody. Your Templar will do his or her best to ensure that you are kept safe and part of that is making sure that you have the proper tools to amplify and produce your spells.

            “Since most of you are new to the equipment, mages working alongside Templars are outfitted with gauntlets suited to your base abilities. They will amplify those talents and allow you to cast at greater speeds. That being said, they do take time to get used to and we encourage you to use this time to practise with them before you begin the field run.”

            Sighing quietly, Elora felt tension roil and curl in her stomach. Maybe reapplying to the Templars was a bad idea. It wouldn’t be the first or last one that she had, but it was definitely the most pressing at the moment. Her gaze fell down to the gloves she had been given. They called them gauntlets, but she knew for a fact that everyone in the field just called them magic mitts and that these bulky versions were complete crap. Yes, they worked, but if you weren’t used to using them, which these mages were clearly not, they weren’t going to do much for you.

            Her lips pursed and she suddenly wondered if she should have brought hers from home. Fitted perfectly for her hands from drakeskin, they were fingerless and had a fine layer of pyrophite and veridium dust between the pieces of leather. It was an explosive combination that had taken weeks to get right but they amplified her spells like nothing else. Except maybe those fancy insert things they did in the North which she had no interest in.

            But personal equipment wasn’t allowed in test runs so she was stuck with a mitt that was too big and definitely mistreated.

            “Waste of time, innit?”

            Looking at the speaker, she frowned slightly. “I beg your pardon?”

            The mage smiled at her, wiggling his fingers in the bulky gloves. “We already know how to do magic, spent all our formative years in a Templar sanctioned school to learn it after all, and then they give us a bit of fabric and think that it’s going to help us?”

            “Have you never used them before?” she asked, going for polite because manners were a must, Lady Trevelyan, and stop slouching! She nearly winced as the voice of her senior enchanter rang through her head. Maker, she hadn’t seen the woman in ten years and yet she still heard that scratchy voice like she was standing right behind her.

            He gave her a condescending look. “Why would I? They’re Templar tech.”

            The derision in his tone told her that he really didn’t think much of the Templars so what was he even doing here looking for a job? Unless he just wanted the steady pay and thought this was an easy way to get it. Elora swallowed and took a deep breath. “Specialization?” she asked politely.

            “Force mage,” he said proudly. “Not like these others. Spirit Healers the lot of them, you can tell just by looking at them.”

            “Nothing wrong with that,” she said. “We’d be screwed if we didn’t have them.”

            “Don’t need so many though,” he dismissed.

            “Mages, any particular reason you’re not practising?”

            Elora mentally swore and turned to face the speaker. The Templar was watching them with critical eyes, already making judgements on them. “No, Ser,” she murmured. “Just getting the feel of the mit-gauntlet before I try it.”

            He didn’t look like he believed her but he gestured at the targets across the room. “Best way to do that is to use it.”

            Fuck. Ignoring the other mage, she shuffled over to the line and knew that both men were watching her. Well, great. No pressure. And why wasn’t the force mage being told to practise as well?

            Flexing her fingers in the stiff leather, she wondered when the last time these had even been used was. Or better yet, when the last time they’d been calibrated. They were fire based, she could feel the drakestone shards inside the leather heating just by being on her hands, but the metal was sporadic, pooling in odd places.

            She shook out her hands in an attempt to get it to even out because if it didn’t she was going to wind up doing something that wouldn’t be approved of.

            “Mage, use the gauntlets,” the Templar barked.

            Her temper made a snide comment as it reared its head before she made a snap decision. Heat ripped through her palm as she lifted her hand, the drakestone singing to life as the magic curled in it for a moment. She let it sit there, counting to five because that was the maximum amount of time this metal could hold the magic and amplify it properly. Her fingers curled slightly before a huge bang ripped through the room as the target across from her erupted into flames, the orange tongues licking upwards toward the roof and scorching the wall behind it.

            She heard the startled shouts before her hand closed into a fist and she jerked it back. The fire immediately went out but the target was completely destroyed, ash drifting to the floor from where it sat. Letting her fist fall, she twisted slightly to look at the Templar that was torn between gaping and glaring at her. “The gauntlet works fine, Ser,” she said quietly, “although it definitely could use repair.”

            He opened his mouth, clearly intending to yell at her, when a sharp whistle rang through the area.

            They all looked over at the woman that had just walked into the room and Elora bit her lip as she realised that she shouldn’t have done that. She really, really shouldn’t have done that. Because that woman was a Seeker, the police that policed the police. If anyone was going to shut her down, it was that woman. And she had let her temper get the better of her, resulting in a childish display of power.

            “Seeker Pentaghast,” the Templar said, saluting her. “I didn’t realise you were participating in the training.”

            “I’ll be running the field test with Knight-Captain Rutherford,” she confirmed but her gaze didn’t leave Elora. “All Templars will be paired with a Seeker for this round, to ensure safety of both parties.”

            Elora frowned slightly. That was different. Had something happened in previous trainings that warranted that extra measure of security? She kept her mouth shut though. She’d done enough damage.

            “Someone clean that mess up,” she told the others that were milling around the room. “And set up another.”

            Elora’s heart hit her boots. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no!

            “Can you do that again?” the Seeker asked, looking directly at Elora.

            Swallowing hard, she picked at the gloves on her hands and tried not to squirm under that gaze. “Maybe,” she said honestly. “The mitts aren’t in that good of condition.”

            “And yet you still managed to do several hundred dollars’ worth of damage to the building,” she said dryly.

            “Ah, yeah. Sorry?”

            “Don’t be sorry. Do it again.”

            Biting her lip, Elora swivelled back to the target that had been set up. There was still ash on the floor from the other one and now everyone in the room was looking at her. Fucking Void. Why did she do this to herself? The right hand didn’t feel like the drakestone could handle another burst like that, not yet at least. The left? Most of the metal was pooled in the fingertips with only a smattering in the palm. That wouldn’t work for that level of fire manipulation.

            Shaking out the hand, she grimaced as that only made more pool in her fingers. Fucking fuck. Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her mana again, letting it coil inside of the metal fragments as she lifted her hand in a loose fist. This was dumb. This was so dumb. This was so fucking dumb. She let out the breath in a sharp burst as she snapped her fingers out of the curl then back into it and stumbled back a step as the target didn’t catch on fire. Or rather it did, but in more of a spontaneously combusting, explosion kind of way.

            A barrier snapped up around her automatically in response to the pieces of paper and wood that went flying and she mentally groaned. She was so fucking stupid. And if she’d thought everyone was staring before that was nothing compared to now.

            Twisting on the balls of her feet, she faced the Seeker and waited for the yelling to commence. The Templar looked ready to explode at her, his face an unseemly shade of red. The force mage was staring at her in a combination of horror and jealousy she had seen too many times before. But the Seeker…she was watching her with a faint curl to her lips that quickly disappeared.

            “Templar,” she barked, “find Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan a new set of gauntlets. While her skill is commendable with the shit you’ve given her, if we want to see her true potential, she’s going to need something better.”

            “There aren’t any more fire based gauntlets available in the training gear, Seeker,” he said, gaze flicking between the two.

            “Then look in the standard issue gear,” she ordered. “But give her gloves that aren’t complete shit.”

            Elora stared at her, trying to keep her mouth from dropping. “Ah, Seeker, no, test runs aren’t done with standard issue gear,” she protested. “It says so in the application.”

            “I know what the application says, Trevelyan, and I also know you’re not a raw recruit. You know how to use the gauntlets, have used them before, so you’ve been given special dispensation to use standard gear.”

            Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck. “Yes, Seeker,” she said softly, starting to tug the mitts off. She knew everyone was still staring, Templar and mage alike, and she knew that she had just earned herself a lot of enemies.

 


	2. A House Call

            Shoving a hand through his hair, Cullen paced the length of the room he was standing in. The follow ups for the new mages had started twenty minutes ago and he’d been in this room the entire time. Alone. It wasn’t right. None of this was bloody right and didn’t make any sense to him.

            The test run yesterday had been the best he’d ever had, beyond what he’d expected. He didn’t know if Cassandra had done anything to lobby for him, but he’d felt a surge of elation when he’d walked into the room to see her standing with the mage. She, Elora Trevelyan, had been professional to a fault, politely asking both him and Cassandra what they expected of her, what they would prefer from the mage back up, and if she was comfortable doing what they had asked. He had started to ask about the gauntlets she’d been outfitted with, not wanting anything to jeopardize their run or chances of working together, but Cassandra had caught his eye and given a subtle shake of her head.

            _“Trust me, Cullen, this is better,” she said quietly as they checked over their gear._

_“It’s against regulations,” he muttered, tugging on different parts of his vest and fatigues to make sure they were all settled properly. No one knew what was going to be waiting for them on the other side of the simulation doors and he had gotten burnt more than one time. Literally. “They’ll pull her if the Knight-Commanders find out.”_

_“I’ve already spoken to them,” Cassandra assured him, checking the clip on her gun. “Or rather I’ve informed them that because Trevelyan has worked with Templars before, special authorization can be given to test her skills. She knows how to use the gauntlets, giving her the piece of shit training ones is only going to hinder her. The whole point of them is to figure out how well the mages can adapt to something going wrong or them being screwed up. She knows how to do that so being given better equipment will let her flex her magic better.”_

_“That also means this run is going to be harder,” he growled, shoving his pistol in its holster._

_Cassandra gave him a slightly sly smile. “Nothing wrong with a challenge, Rutherford.”_

_“I hate you,” Cullen said flatly, picking up his helmet. “Knight-Enchanter?”_

_She looked at them and he was once again struck by the fact that she seemed too small for combat gear. She looked almost fragile, like something was going to break in her, but she had been calm and steady when she had spoken to them. Plus Cassandra had told him what had happened in the training area. Any mage that could do that with those mitts was in complete control of their magic. Maybe it was just the fact that she was short that was throwing him off since he had gotten used to working with women who were not that small. “Yes, Knight-Captain?”_

_Way too polite, formal, who had she been paired with before for her to have such manners? “Knight-Enchanter and Knight-Captain are too long for combat situations,” he told her. “Is there something you’d like to go by?”_

_She swallowed and looked away for a moment. She fiddled with the helmet in her hands before sighing. “Trev,” she said quietly. “It’s what…It works.”_

_Cullen and Cassandra shared a look and he knew she wanted to know as desperately as he did. “Cassandra responds to Seeker and you can use my name if you like.”_

_Her brows drew together slightly. “I think I’ll stick with Captain,” she countered._

_He shrugged. “If that’s what you’re comfortable with,” he conceded._

_She let out a slow breath as they all saw the light come on above the door._

_Cullen watched her put her helmet on out of the corner of his eye and wondered if she was going to be good for this. As he tightened the strap on his own helmet, he watched her rub her palms together for a moment before clapping them softly and pulling them apart. His brows shot up when she conjured a small ball of flame that rippled and roiled between her palms. It was a perfect circle, a perfect little sun that had flares coming off of it before she clapped her hands again and it dispersed._

_Looking at Cassandra, he saw the approval on her face before he levelled a finger at her. “If we wind up going against a dragon, you’re cleaning my gear. For a week.”_

_“A dragon?” Trev squeaked behind him. “They put dragons in simulation runs?”_

_“They do when the team is good enough to take them on,” Cassandra told her, shouldering her rifle._

_“Fuck,” she muttered._

            They hadn’t gone up against a dragon, at least not a high dragon. Because her gauntlets and spells were more fire based, they had been thrown a lot of drakes and dragonlings, but she had adapted quickly, going more defensive to protect them and let them take the creatures down. They had made it through relatively unscathed and in a decent amount of time considering what they’d had. He and Cassandra had talked with her after the run and she had been alright, actually friendly and smiling at them. Her pale cheeks had been flushed and he recognized all the signs of someone who was on an adrenaline rush, someone who had clearly missed it.

            He hadn’t been surprised when the Knight-Commanders had told her to come back the next day, for the final evaluations, but he’d known they weren’t necessary. She fit how he ran a team; she was his mage.

            But she hadn’t struck him as the kind of person that showed up late, which she was now thirty minutes of.

            “Shit,” he muttered, throwing himself into the chair and staring up at the ceiling. What had happened? Cassandra had already checked but there’d been no messages from her, nothing saying she wasn’t coming. She’d gone to check again but he knew there probably wasn’t going to be any new information.

            She wasn’t coming.

            It didn’t make any sense! She had worked well with them, perfectly even! They had had a good conversation afterward, making sure all of the damage that had been done to them was taken care of properly. They had been good! So what had went wrong?

            Letting his arms flop to his sides, he stared up at the ceiling. The fan was making lazy circles but it did nothing to help his thoughts. He was willing to bet his entire week’s pay that whatever had stopped her from coming in today had to do with that sealed file.

            “We’re leaving.”

            Tipping his chin down, he stared at Cassandra as she came into the room. “What?”

            She rolled her eyes at him. “We’re leaving,” she repeated. “Come on.”

            He knew better than to make her say it a third time so he pushed out of the chair and followed her out of the room. “Was there any news?”

            “It’s best if we talk in the car.”

            Great. Fantastic. Not what he needed. Nor did he need that smug look on Samson’s face as they passed the room he was coming out of.

            “Rutherford, leaving already?”

            “Clearly,” he said evenly.

            “Evaluation not go well, I take it? Oh wait, I guess you can’t get much worse than having your mage not show up. Waste of talent right there, on you and her.”

            Cullen snapped around, arm across Samson’s throat and slamming him to the wall. “Do we have a problem, Templar?” he demanded in a low voice.

            “Cullen!” Cassandra barked. “Let him go.”

            “Better listen to your bitch, Rutherford,” Samson sneered. “Wouldn’t want to lose another one.”

            Cullen growled low in his throat, wanting nothing more than to toss the damn bastard to the curb. Samson had been nothing but a pain in the ass for the last year and he wanted him gone. But the higher ups wouldn’t do anything about him, never found anything amiss so he was stuck dealing with his smart mouth and his fucking-

            “Knight-Captain Rutherford, let him go.”

            Leaning back from him, Cullen didn’t look away from Samson as Cassandra’s shout ripped through the hallway. Samson didn’t move from the wall, sneer firmly in place.

            “Listen to your bitch, Knight-Captain.”

            “Knight-Templar Samson, return to your room and finish your evaluation,” Cassandra snapped. “I will be reporting this to the Knight-Commanders and they will look into any altercations the pair of you have.”

            “Whatever you say, Seeker,” Samson dismissed, going back into the room.

            Cullen’s hands were curled into fists and he was having a problem getting his breathing back under control. What was it about the man that bothered him so much? They had used to get along, had been paired up together when Cullen had first transferred in. But since Cullen had gotten the promotion to Knight-Captain shortly after getting to Kirkwall, Samson’s attitude had soured further every year.

            "Don't tell me I shouldn't let him get to me," Cullen muttered as they started down the hallway again. His blood was still pounding through his veins, irritation and frustration licking at him with every step. He should have been calming down, but all he wanted to do was hit something. Which was not appropriate for a Knight-Captain.

            "I wasn't going to because you already know that."

            Yes, he did. She had told him that plenty of times since she had arrived, had other people tell him that as well. But something about Samson got under his skin and made him forget too much of his training.

            He blew out a breath, slipping on his sunglasses as they stepped outside. Samson aside, what was he going to do without a mage? He and Cassandra could run missions just fine but he worked better with a mage partner. It was how he had been trained from the moment he had joined the Templars. Of course there were always other people that came and went depending on the mission but there was always a core group. It was usually just a templar and a mage, but the three factor group could be used for higher ranked templars. It didn’t make matters any better that he wasn't going to get approval for another run, not anytime soon, not when the Knight-Commanders had seen how well Trev had worked with them. If she didn’t join his team, he was going to be stuck on local runs for weeks.

            "Why didn't she come?" he demanded. "It doesn't make any sense!"

            "Cullen, wait."

            He ground his teeth together. Did Cassandra suddenly have answers and she wasn't sharing them? As a Seeker, she could get that file opened if she wanted to and he knew she wanted to. But had she? In half an hour? He doubted it but clearly she knew something.

            When he was settled in the car, he had to keep himself from demanding answers. Cassandra Pentaghast did not respond well to demands. But he needed to know. He needed to understand what was going on.

            "Her team was killed," Cassandra said as soon as the car was started.

            Cullen looked over at her. "What?" he asked, positive he had to have heard her wrong. An entire team? That shit didn’t happen, wasn’t supposed to happen.

            "I don't know any details of how or why, but the only information that I could find about her team was that their dates of death are all the same day. She’s the only one survived whatever attacked and wiped them out."

            "Shit," he muttered. That explained the fragile quality he had seen in her. It was horrible when one member of your team died but the entire group? The survivor’s guilt that would ride a person because of that would be intense. "Think she panicked?"

            "Probably. That kind of fear can paralyse a person."

            "Shit," he repeated, slumping back against the seat. He knew what it was like to lose your team. One of the first teams he’d ever been a part of in Ferelden had been slaughtered by rogue blood mages and abominations. He’d trained with his mage partner for years and they’d been the junior pair on the run. But it was supposed to be a routine run, gather information on the mages, and it had been fine until those mages had panicked. He’d been the only one to walk away from the attack and even then he’d woken up a week after back in Kinloch Academy, with all of his friends and mage dead. He hadn’t wanted to know anything about the mages, hadn’t had time for anything but looking for a transfer to anywhere but there.

            Cassandra didn't say anything more as she drove away from the barracks. There wasn't much to say. Trev had the talent, had the skills, but her mental health was more important than all of that. She must have made it through the psych evals to get to the test run but if her confidence had gotten shaken? It wouldn’t take much if she had that hanging over her. There were a lot of days he didn’t want to get up in the morning so he could understand her fear.

            Although, to be fair, most nights he didn’t sleep much anyways. Being up, being active, was better than lying in a bed, by yourself and staring up at the ceiling. Memories came and went faster than he could count most days and he wished he didn’t have any of them. The lyrium muted them but nothing could take them from him. The psychiatrist he was forced to see told him that short of a blood mage removing the memories, he was stuck with them. They might fade with time…or they might get worse as the lyrium took his mind.

            His teeth clenched at that thought. Templars had been taking lyrium for nearly two thousand years and yet in all that time no one had figured out a way for them to quit lyrium without horrible side effects or how to stop it from destroying their minds. He had always thought it was complete shit but being a Templar was what he had wanted since he’d been a boy. No matter the cost, he had pledged himself to this life.

            Frowning as he saw the buildings around him, he focused a little more and still didn’t know where they were. "Where are we going?" he asked.

            "Apartment three sixteen, eighty-eight Mulgrove Drive."

            Cullen glanced at Cassandra. "Is that supposed to mean something?" he asked dryly.

            She made an irritated noise. "Did you even read her file?" she asked. "Elora Trevelyan lives at apartment three sixteen, eighty-eight Mulgrove Drive."

            He swivelled in the seat to look at her. "What?"

            "She's too good to pass up, Cullen. That woman is meant to be doing something with herself. I want to hear from her why she didn't come in. If the reason is legitimate, I'll walk away and leave her be. But if it's something she can overcome, something we can help her face, I'm not letting her get away."

            "You remember that you're not a Templar," he reminded her.

            "I am still a part of your team, Cullen, and, until the time that I am not, I'm going to make sure it's the best that it can be."

            He still didn't even understand why she had paired herself up with him, because he was sure she had chosen to do it. This wasn't a routine Seeker mission. He knew she had originally come to Kirkwall because of some rash decisions the higher ups had made that had gotten the attention of a lot of wrong people but why had she chosen to pair up with him of all people? Every time he went out, she was gearing up beside him. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd fucked something up, but other than butting heads with Samson he hadn't done anything.

            Not that he was complaining about having a Seeker as a partner. Cassandra was a hard worker and pushed him to do the best that he could. She didn’t take shit from anyone and she had no problem voicing her opinion when it conflicted with whatever they were doing. It was good running missions with her…but they needed a mage. He was horrible at anything involving after care on missions, Cassandra constantly reminding him to eat, drink, and patch up, but that wasn’t her job. Technically it wasn’t a mage’s job either but patching up would be reduced if they were constantly covered in barriers or small healing spells.

            “We’re seriously going to make a house call?”

            They were stopped at a light so she looked at him, dark eyes serious. “Do you want her on your team?” she asked bluntly.

            He stared at her, knowing his answer but willing himself to think about it, to not just blurt it out. If Trev had issues, it could be bad, but who was he to judge? He had more issues than most and he still managed to get the job done. If anything, he might be able to help her through whatever was eating at her. He understood the pain of losing people, understood what it did to a person. He knew you wanted to pull into yourself, to lick your wounds and try to withstand the pain. But it didn’t work. If anything, it made it harder to do because no one was there to help pull you through. “Yes,” he said firmly.

            “Then shut up.”

            Cullen laughed softly and leaned back in the seat. “What area is Mulgrove even in?” he muttered.

            “Decent place,” she said, pulling away from the light. “Not the greatest but definitely not the worst.”

            The grey area. It was where a lot of mages hid or chose to live their lives. Not high profile enough to draw attention, but not in the slums where they’d constantly be attacked. He’d lived there for a long time, mostly because you could get really good places for decent prices, but with the promotion he had been pressured to move. Wouldn’t do to have a Knight-Captain living in middle class housing, you have to think about what you represent, what people think when they see you. Personally, he thought that was a load of shit because he knew the people in his old building had been so damn proud of him when they’d heard the news. They’d been sad to see him go and it had made leaving even harder. The one bedroom place he was living in now wasn’t as homey as the last and the other tenants…he would be surprised if he knew even three of their names.

            The building they stopped in front of looked like it had seen better days, but there were flowers growing over the balcony rails of nearly every single apartment. The grass belt in front of it was well maintained and if he had to pick a word for it, he’d go with comfortable. Opening his door, he slid out of the car and was very aware of all the gazes that they were drawing. He couldn’t see them, but he knew they were watching. “How are we going in?”

            “If we buzz up, she might not let us in,” Cassandra said before she twirled a small metal rod around her finger. “I don’t like the idea of abusing this but it will probably be the easiest way to get into the building.”

            “Everyone will think we’re here to take her in if we use that,” he warned. Every apartment building had a spot on the front doorframe that was fitted for a key that only Templars could use. It allowed them to preform raids more efficiently and with minimal civilian interference or casualties. But it also came with an entire manual of responsibilities and the punishment for breaking the rules with it were harsh and swift. Usually dealt out by the Seekers themselves.

            “Do you have a better idea? Because calling the landlord, who may or may not be on site, will still raise red flags and we’ll really give the wrong impression if we buzz someone else to let us in.”

            He pushed out a sigh and stared up at the building. “Fine, let’s make it quick,” he muttered, closing the door.

            She was already moving, key firmly in hand as she walked. Each key was made specifically for one Templar and while Cassandra wasn’t technically a Templar, her abilities fell in the same category so she could still use it. Of course, her using it would be logged and an explanation would need to be given, but it would be easier for her to brush aside the Knight-Commanders questions than if he were to do it.

            He followed her to the entrance, his gut tight at the thought of using the key. But it turned out they didn’t have to as a couple was leaving the building, letting them slip in once they were gone.

            “What did you say? Three sixteen?” he muttered, ignoring the woman in the foyer that was staring at them without any attempt at hiding it. If the large Chantry sun stamped on the front and sleeves of their fatigues wasn’t enough to give it away, the fatigues themselves would have told everyone loud and clear that they were templars. Most saw the sun burst patches and didn’t make the distinction between who actually wore the coat of arms. Most wouldn’t know that his blue meant Templar and Cassandra’s black meant Seeker, didn’t know the difference between the two. They were simply the arm of the Chantry and that was all that really mattered to the majority of the population. And that majority never wanted to see them unannounced in their home.

            “Yes,” she said, already hitting the stairs.

            Three flights wasn’t that bad. He went up more getting to his place. Granted he had started taking the elevator more lately. Too many long shifts with Cassandra driving him into the dirt with her drills. Where she found the energy to do half the things she did, he would never know. And he refused to believe he was anywhere near out of breath when he got to the top of the third set of stairs and saw her already moving down the hallway, looking at doors. “Bloody Seeker,” he muttered, tucking his sunglasses in his pocket as the lighted stairwell gave way to a darkened hallway.

            “I heard that,” she called back at him.

            Of course she did. Following behind her, he tried not to think about what was going to be waiting for them on the other side. He had been in mage’s homes before, usually on raids, only sometimes on house calls, and there was always an air about them that set him on edge. It wasn’t like what it was in their schools because a person expected that feeling there. But to walk from a normal hallway into a home where magic was suddenly hanging heavy in the air-contained only to that space as per Chantry bylaw-took some getting used to.

            “Here,” Cassandra said, stopping in front of a door that was only a couple from the end of the hallway.

            He watched her raise her hand to knock, instinctively taking up position to watch the rest of the floor. The sound of a door opening had them both turning, but it wasn’t hers, it was the one across the hallway.

            Cullen watched as the man coming out froze as soon as he saw them, his gaze darting between the pair. “Nothing to see, serah,” he said quietly when the man didn’t move.

            “Someone finally call her in?” he said, surprising Cullen.

            “I beg your pardon?” he asked, wondering if talking to the man was really that smart of an idea.

            “I know she’s a mage, everyone knows she’s a mage,” he explained. “We were just never sure if she was a legal one or not. Never could make the call myself, what if she found out and did some kind of spell on me as punishment? But it’s good to see that someone finally did.”

            Cullen stared at him, not sure he was understanding what was happening. “You’re talking about…Elora Trevelyan?” he said slowly.

            “Yeah, that’s the one. Fancy enough name so you think she’d still be at her family’s home. Heard they got land out in Ostwick…or was it Hercinia? Doesn’t matter, you’ll be taking her in I suppose? Do I even want to know what she did?”

            “She hasn’t done anything,” he insisted.

            “She must have. Why else would you be here?”

            Cassandra glanced at him, knocking on Trev’s door again.

            He knew better. He fucking knew better but…. “She hasn’t done anything,” Cullen repeated.

            “If you say so. Personally, I think she’s hiding out from the Chantry. But this will be good, get her and her screaming gone. Dunno if she’s having wicked dreams or getting fucked into the floor but either way they’re annoying as hell. Never really consistent though so you get used to not hearing them. Then next thing you know she’s waking up the floor with them.”

            Cullen was honestly appalled by everything coming out of this man’s mouth. This was her neighbour? The sweet, polite woman he had met yesterday had to deal with this filth living across from her? “Why would you even think that?” he demanded.

            “Never see her working a normal job,” he said with a shrug. “Girl’s got to make money somehow and mageness aside, she’s got a decent pair of tits and a nice a-“

            “Civilian, I can guarantee you, you do not want to finish that sentence,” Cullen growled. “And furthermore, you misera-“

            The door clicked open behind him and Cullen nearly bit his tongue to keep himself from finishing his thought. “Seeker Pentaghast? Knight-Captain Rutherford? Can I do something for you?” her polite voice said quietly.

            He twisted at the waist to look and felt his heart hit his boots. Shit. She’d looked fragile and small in the combat gear yesterday, but the confidence she had carried had made her seem more substantial. And far more attractive than he had expected her to be. But seeing her now, wearing an Ostwick Academy alumni sweater that hung half way down her thighs and with all of that hair up in a messy bun at the back of her head, he realised that he hadn’t even begun to see how attractive she truly was.

            Which was a severe problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer to post than I wanted it to, but life enjoys getting in the way of everything that I want to do. Here's hoping I can get to updating a little more regularly!


	3. Now or Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fabulous Luci made a playlist to go along with this story and while things are slow now, plot-wise, they're going to pick up soon and this is the perfect music for it. Be a dear and listen to it to set the mood for things to come!
> 
> http://magisteramell.tumblr.com/post/119542050295/dont-think-of-it-as-being-stranded-in-the-middle

            Elora kept a firm hold on her doorknob as she stared at the pair that had shown up on her door step. And then there was the asshat across the hall was there as well. This day could not get any worse.

            “Trev,” Cassandra said, nodding at her. “May we come in?”

            “Gonna get it now, mage,” her neighbour said. “Templars come to take you away.”

            Grinding her teeth, Elora held onto her manners but she felt the doorknob heat in her hand. “Of course you can,” she said, taking a step back and pulling the door open.

            Cassandra came in, but Cullen didn’t move. His gaze was firmly locked on her neighbour and her stomach sank. Oh what had the fuckwit said before she opened the door?

            “Knight-Captain?” she prompted gently.

            “I suggest you not be here when I leave, civilian,” he said lowly. “Go about your business. Now.”

            Elora stared at him as he practically stalked into her apartment before shooting a look at her neighbour when he made an outraged noise. It was horribly childish, but she lifted her free hand and wiggled her fingers at him. She took petty satisfaction in watching his face pale and he hurriedly went back into his apartment, even going so far as to slam the door.

            Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment before closing her door and locking it for good measure. There that was one problem dealt with and it should be easy to deal with the other one. All she had to do was figure out why they were here and then send them on their merry way. Her stomach completely dropped as she saw that both of them hadn’t gone far into her house and she remembered that said house was a complete mess. “Oh, uhm, sorry,” she said, hurrying past both of them and wondering how bad it really was.

            Thankfully she’d remembered to at least throw out the take out containers that had been littering the coffee table. She heard both of their heavy steps and felt heat rush into her face. It wasn’t terrible. Still wasn’t anywhere good enough for guests.

            “I really don’t get company,” she apologized, hating the fact that she detested cleaning. “I’m sorry for the mess. I don’t…uhm….”

            “We came over unannounced, Trev,” Cassandra said, waving her hand. “Do not worry yourself over it.”

            Yeah, okay, that wasn’t going to happen. She had a deep sated need to make sure that everyone viewed her in a positive light and the mess going on in her apartment was not a good impression. Maker, she had piles of books everywhere and tea cups on top of the books. “Uhm, tea? Coffee?” she asked, twisting her fingers nervously together.

            “Tea,” they said together and it made her frown in puzzlement.

            “Sit where you want and, no not there!” she said as Cullen went for one of the armchairs. When he gave her a look, she knew her face was getting red. “Sorry, sorry, that’s the cat’s chair.”

            One of his eyebrows went up a fraction. “The cat’s chair?” he repeated.

            “Yeah, uhm, she’s not mine, she’s my cousin’s but it’s definitely her chair. I mean, you can sit in it if you want, but expect her to attack you. She doesn’t really like people much. Bit of a stuck up but it goes well with her name. I’m watching her while he’s working, although he lives here too so it’s not like she isn’t ever not here and-” Elora snapped her mouth shut when she saw that he was fighting a smile. “I’m babbling. Sorry. Tea. Sit anywhere, but the cat chair.”

            She thought she heard him chuckle softly but she ignored it as she scurried into the kitchen. She knew she had clean cups and the water was boiled. Did she have milk? Or cream? Shit, shit, shit! “I have black tea or really most kinds of tea really. Do you have a preference?”

            “Black is fine.”

            Setting the cups down, she turned to the kettle, her mind frantic because there were two Templars in her apartment. Well, one Templar and one Seeker, who was like a super Templar which was even scarier. Or it would be if she knew that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Right? Right. She hadn’t done anything and-

            Everything stilled in her. “Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, you’re here because I didn’t show up.”

            “Yes.”

            She set the kettle back on the counter and braced her hands on it, trying to take a deep breath. She had meant to go in, had set an alarm, picked out an outfit, had everything fucking ready to go last night. But, standing in the shower this morning, she had been hit with a crippling sense of panic and spent most of it sobbing as fear had coursed through her. So she had sat in her chair, tea going cold in her hands while she stared at the clock and watched her time for the appointment slip by. She was pretty sure she had started crying again because she had wanted this, she had wanted it so badly, but…something in her knew it was a bad idea. “Oh,” she repeated.

            She heard the footsteps, knew one of them was coming, but it was still a surprise to see Cullen standing in the entrance way of her kitchen. “You alright?” he asked softly.

            Was she? “Yeah, yeah, fine,” she lied, picking up the kettle again. “I know I have sugar, but I’m not so sure about milk and cream. Lactose intolerant so I never buy the stuff when Yoney isn’t here.”

            “That’s fine.”

            Shit, he wasn’t moving and now he was watching her. It made her nervous, being under that stare, and at this rate she was going to-“Ow, shit!” she gasped, shaking out her hand as she spilled hot water on it.

            She heard him move and suddenly her hand was in his gloved ones. The tips of his fingers were warm against her skin, his gloves fingerless she realised, and she squawked slightly when he tugged her over to the sink. “I’m making your nervous,” he said quietly, turning on the cold water and holding her hand under it.

            “No, you’re not.”

            “Don’t lie. I can feel your magic and it’s anything but stable right now.”

            Elora stared hard at him before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She’d been unstable before, it was nothing new, but…. Letting the breath out slowly, she willed herself to calm down. She hadn’t shown up. Yes. But that wasn’t a crime. She might get a fine at most for wasting the Order’s time but they weren’t going to throw her in prison because of it. Cullen and Cassandra being here didn’t mean anything. It was more of a compliment that they had sought her out when she hadn’t shown up. Most would have let the insult lie and moved on, but they had come to find her, to talk to her, to ask her if she was okay. How many mages got that kind of follow up?

            Opening her eyes, she met the golden ones looking back at her. “And now?” she said evenly.

            He frowned at her and she could almost feel the lyrium in him surging through his veins as he pulled on the skills taught to him by the Chantry. “If I didn’t know you were a mage, I’d think you were just a person. Impressive,” he said quietly. “And illegal.”

            “It’s only illegal if you suppress it and lie about it,” she corrected him. “I’m in my own home. I can suppress it all I want.”

            “Can’t be healthy.”

            It really wasn’t. If it went on for too long it would become painful. But she had a feeling she was going to need to keep her magic shoved in a little mental box for the duration of their visit. So she just took another deep breath and smiled at him. “I’m fine.”

            “You say that a lot, Trev,” he said. “I’m pretty sure you’re lying every time you say it.”

            “Doesn’t matter if I am,” she said, taking her hand back from him and drying it off. “Does it?”

            “It does if it’s related to why you didn’t come in today.”

            One shoulder lifted and fell as she turned away from him. “Doesn’t really matter does it?” she repeated. “I’ve missed the deadline so it’s all a moot point.”

            “Do you think we’d be here if the deadline mattered that much?”

            She frowned down at the counter. “I just met you both yesterday. This seems like a lot considering that fact.”

            “Because we both agree that we want you on our team,” Cullen said firmly.

            A pained laugh left her. “Trust me, Knight-Captain, you really don’t. I’m not worth the effort.”

            “I’d rather make that call on my own and I can’t if you don’t join us.”

            She glanced at him and felt a jolt run through her as she took him in. It wasn’t her magic reacting to the sight of him with his arms crossed over his chest while he watched her. She didn’t know what it was, but the sight of him in his blue fatigues with his hip leaning against her counter was definitely doing something to her. She wanted to mentally kick herself. She knew what it was; Knight-Captain Rutherford was an attractive man and she would have to be blind not to see it. Having him in her small kitchen made it feel even smaller and he was far too close for her peace of mind. “Why?” she asked. “You don’t know me. I could have a completely legitimate reason for not coming it.”

            “Tell me it then so I can know why you killed it in the test run but can’t bring yourself to actually do the job.”

            “So you can convince me to join?”

            “So I can know why an amazing mage like yourself would sell herself short like that.”

            Her breath caught in her throat. Ionas never said it that bluntly but whenever he was home, he would ask gentle questions about going back to work or if she was interested in doing anything. Some days it seemed like a brilliant idea. Others she just wanted to crawl under the couch and die at the thought.

            “Trev?”

            Her nose wrinkled. Having them use her nickname from her old team had been a bad idea. It used to fill her with pride and happiness when she heard it. Now it grated on her ears, made her heart pound for all the wrong reasons, made her want to scream in terror and fury. “Uhm, can you call me Elora?” she asked. “I…I suddenly don’t like being called that.”

            He shifted behind her, his boots scraping over tile. “Whatever you want.”

            “Even if I want to be left alone? Forgotten about?”

            He paused in leaving the kitchen, looking back at her. “Most people who say that don’t want either of those things, Elora,” Cullen said quietly. “But if you’ve convinced yourself that that’s what you want, then we’ll respect that.”

            She waited until he had rounded the corner before furiously rubbing at her eyes as she felt tears prick at them. No, no, no, she wasn’t going to cry. She’d done enough crying for today and she wasn’t going to do it in front of these two! A sharp curse left her when she saw the black on her hand and realised she’d just smudged the fuck out of her eyeliner. She’d put it on to try to cheer herself up a bit, doing something routine because it helped settle her, and promptly forgotten it was there. So now what did she look like, a panda or a raccoon? And how was she supposed to fix it when she had to go through the living room to get to the bathroom?

            Dragging her hands down her face, she suddenly didn’t care if she made it worse. But she still bent over to try to see her reflection in the chrome surface of the kettle. It didn’t overly work because her whole face looked like a smudge and her shoulders fell in response. Well, her house was a mess, only right that she matched it.

            She went to grab the cups and stopped when she saw they weren’t on the counter. Had he…taken them in? A shaky breath left her and she had to wipe her eyes again. Shuffling around the corner, she hesitated for a moment as she watched the pair of them. Cassandra was sitting on the couch and Cullen had joined her. It wasn’t a huge couch but they made it seem positively tiny. Maybe it was all the gear and all the shit rattling around her head that made them seem larger than life. Or maybe it was just them.

            They were talking quietly to one another and it made something in her ache. She missed that, that close companionship you had with your partners. She had it with Ionas, they’d been best friends for as long as she could remember, but he was always out of the house for work. Being alone wasn’t something she was used to. She was the youngest of five siblings. She had been in the Ostwick Academy for ten years, from the age of eight to eighteen, and had grown quite used to being surrounded by people. Then she had been part of a Templar team for the next five years before….

            Her vision wavered for a second and her hand shot out to slam into the wall as she lost her balance. She vaguely heard the conversation die but she was more focused on keeping herself from passing out. No. She had not had a fainting spell in over two years. She was not going to start now when she had-Blinking rapidly as gloved hands tilted her face up, she met Cassandra’s dark eyes and was startled at the concern in them.

            “Cullen said you suppressed your magic,” she said, her gaze darting over her face. “I won’t tell you to stop but was this because of that?”

            “No,” Elora pushed out, her throat feeling like she had swallowed sand.

            “Have you eaten today? Had enough to drink?”

            “Probably not,” she said honestly.

            The Seeker made a disgusted noise. “Why not?”

            How to tell her she hadn’t seen the point in it? “Didn’t want to just throw it back up,” she whispered honestly.

            The disgust faded and was replaced with the concern again. “Are you well? Is there something you could eat now?”

            Was…she offering to cook for her? “It’s okay,” Elora said. “I just…need to sit for a bit, I think.”

            Cassandra kept her face tipped up, no doubt searching for the lie before she nodded. “Stop suppressing your magic,” she ordered.

            Elora gave her a look. “You’re not the boss of me,” she muttered, “and I feel better with it like this.”

            “You do not,” Cassandra said, calling her on the lie.

            Throwing up her hands, Elora demanded, “What do you want me to say? That my magic is unstable today and I’m scared it’s going to lash out? That I’m scared I’m going to hurt you or myself with it? Is that what you want me to say?”

            “If it’s the truth, yes,” the Seeker said firmly.

            She stared at the other woman, not really expecting that answer. No one ever wanted the truth where her magic was concerned, only a honey covered lie.

            “If it is bothering you that much,” Cassandra continued. “We could help-”

            “No!” Elora practically shouted, stumbling back and slamming into the wall. “No, no, no!”

            Cassandra held out her hands and took a step back. “It was only a suggestion to help you.”

            Having a Templar help her, most likely by way of a smite or some other magical suppressant, was not helping her. In the slightest. It had happened once and she never wanted it to happen again. Suppressing her magic and having a Templar smite or silence her were completely different things. For one, she could unlock her magic with a thought if she was just suppressing it, but a smite? She wouldn’t even be able to feel her mana.

            “Breathe, Elora,” Cullen said from his spot on the couch. “Or you’re going to pass out.”

            Her gaze flicked between the two of them. “Why are you even here?” she practically wailed.

            “For you,” they said together.

            “I need a mage,” Cullen said, throwing a disgruntled look at Cassandra. “That hasn’t changed since you did the run. I knew as soon as I saw the file that I wanted it to be you.”

            “Because I’m a Knight-Enchanter.”

            “To begin with, yes, but only because I hadn’t met you. For all I knew, you could have been a complete bitch and not worked at all. Which would have put me back in more test runs and hoping that someone would fit with the pair of us. But you fit. Maker, Elora, you more than fit. It was like you’d always been meant to be on our team.”

            They had felt it too then? She’d thought she’d maybe imagined it while she’d been crying earlier. But they had all seamlessly worked together as if they’d been doing it for years…as if they’d all gone to the same school and been trained together. “You don’t want me,” she pushed out, wrapping her arms around her stomach. “I come with a lot of baggage.”

            Cullen snort and Cassandra rolled her eyes. “I was stationed in Ferelden during the last Blight,” he said flatly, “and I’ve spent nearly ten years in Kirkwall.”

            “I’m a Pentaghast and have been Right Hand of the Divine for most of my life,” Cassandra said shortly. “You are not the only one with a history.”

            “Did you get your team killed?” she said in a tiny voice. “Because I’m pretty sure I did.”

            “Pretty sure?” they both said.

            Maker, how long had they been working together if they thought and spoke together like that? “I don’t…I don’t remember what happened,” she admitted. “I can’t remember anything about that day beyond what people have told me.”

            “We know you have a sealed file, Elora,” Cullen said patiently. “We haven’t read it though.”

            “You’re not allowed to read it,” she laughed weakly. “Knight-Commanders aren’t even allowed to read it.”

            That got frowns from the both of them. “Doesn’t matter,” Cassandra dismissed. “What matters is if you’re going to join us or not?”

            Elora stared at her, wondering if she’d just been paying attention to anything that had happened. “You can’t honestly want me,” she protested.

            “We do,” Cullen said, pushing himself off of the couch. “I don’t want anyone else on my team but you because at this point no one else is going to fit as well and neither of us are going to forget that. It isn’t fair to whoever gets paired up with us after you.”

            “Don’t try to guilt me into this,” she muttered.

            “I’m not. I’m telling you the truth. You fit us,” he said, spacing out the words as if he was talking to a child. “I can understand being afraid, Elora. I’ve been there. I’ve wanted nothing more than to give up on everything that I have because it would be easier than getting up in the morning and facing the day. But I do it anyways because I refuse to let anyone beyond myself rule my life. I know I could die at any point, especially with my line of work, but I refuse to let myself cower in bed, in my apartment, anywhere. Giving up is easy, so very easy, and moving forward is sometimes the hardest thing you could ever do.”

            She was staring at him as he moved a little bit closer to her, but not enough for her to start freaking out.

            “But you have to do it,” he told her. “Because I promise you, you will wake up one morning and regret the choices you’ve made if you don’t. You will wish that you had taken the chance to do more with your life rather than stay in this apartment and catsit. It might not be today or tomorrow or five years from now. But I swear to you, you will regret not taking this chance.”

            Blinking at him, Elora didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected that, any of that, from him. She hadn’t expected them to show up on her door either. She didn’t know what she had expected but this wasn’t it. “I….”

            “Twenty-four hours,” Cullen said, waving Cassandra toward the door. “I can give you twenty-four hours before I’ll have to tell the Knight-Commanders that I need another test run.”

            Her breaths were coming in choppy pants and she couldn’t get any words out.

            His gaze moved over her before his head dipped slightly. “I want to hear from you, Elora,” he said quietly, “but if I don’t, I hope you have a good life.”

            She watched as he walked away, toward and out the door. All she could do was blink and reflexively lick her lips. She wanted…Maker, what did she want? Did she want to stay locked in here, looking at old research on lyrium and hating that it hadn’t moved forward in five years? Or did she want to get back out there and further the damn research she had been spearheading? Did she want to hide in her apartment, sobbing and shaking as night terrors took hold of her on things she couldn’t remember anymore? Or did she want to go back into the field and try to find some bloody answers for her questions?

            A soft gasp left her and she was moving before she could stop to think about it. It was long strides to the door, grabbing her keys as almost an afterthought, and out the door. They weren’t on the floor anymore. Of course they weren’t. They were both taller than her, they were probably at the bottom of the stairs now.

            It was a horrible idea, she wasn’t a runner, hated running, but she broke into one to reach the stairs. She practically leapt down them, taking them two at a time and ignoring the way her feet throbbed in the process. She had to catch them! If she didn’t catch them now, she wasn’t going to do it! She would panic again. She would give up again. She would wish she had a fucking spine again.

            Hitting the main floor, she dashed across it and flinched at the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors. Where were they? And how fast did they fucking walk? Yarding the door open, she quickly scanned the lot, trying to remember where the visitor parking was. She easily found the cruiser and was pleased to see they hadn’t made it there yet. “Wait!” she shouted, running toward them.

            She saw them both freeze before they half pivoted toward her. Cullen’s brows were drawn together as she came up to them and promptly bent over to rest her hands on her knees while she tried to suck in air. “Elora?”

            “I want it,” she gasped, looking up at him without straightening. “I want the damn job. But I am absolutely terrified of having that job again.”

            “Fear is natural,” Cassandra said.

            Elora waved her hand sharply. “My psychiatrist has been feeding me that line since I started going to see him. There’s a difference between fear and terror. I’m afraid of being bitten by a dog or stung by a bee. I’m terrified of getting someone else killed.”

            “What are Templars supposed to do, Elora?” Cullen asked, pulling her attention back to him.

            She frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

            “What is at the core of our job? What is the basic tenant we’re supposed to follow?”

            She slowly shook his head, having no idea what he was talking about.

            He caught her chin and lifted it so she was forced to stand up straight and meet his gaze head on. “We protect,” he said quietly. “Mages, other Templars, regular people. We protect them all.”

            “Gonna be hard to think about protecting a single person with that big of a list.”

            His lips curled slightly. “We protect those we’re closest to, first and foremost. If you’re on my team, I take care of you. Just like I hope you’ll do the same for me.”

            “He forgets to eat and drink water,” Cassandra said dryly. “You two have that in common. Maybe you’ll be able to remind each other.”

            Elora flushed while Cullen rolled his eyes. “A team works together,” he said, ignoring the Seeker. “We protect each other, we help each other, we never give up on each other. Can you commit to that, Elora? Can you give me that without reservation?”

            It felt like he was asking for a lot more than what his words said and her heart was thumping madly in her chest from his close proximity and touch. But it wasn’t just him. It was something more than just him. “I can try.”

            “That’s all I ask for now. That you try.”

            “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll be on your team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the best place to add this in, especially since Cullen mentioned how long he's been in Kirkwall in this chapter. With the release of The World of Thedas Vol 2, his age has been said to be about 29-30. Since this is a recent development and I've had these chapters written for well over a month, I've written him as older. The 29/30 range didn't fit how I saw him, but he's not that much older, 32/33 is what I've always seen him as. It doesn't matter a lot in the grand scope of things, but I thought I would just add it in while I was thinking about. It will also make the timeline make more sense later on. Thanks for reading!


	4. Mission One

            Cullen shifted the strap of his gun across his chest, feeling the weight of it settle better on his hip. His gear was heavy on his back and he couldn’t wait to get back to camp. The run hadn’t been pointless but there was definitely a lot that could have gone better and hadn’t. They were all alive and in one piece but the information they’d been given was definitely out of date.

            Granted, nothing in the Hissing Wastes was up to date.

            He heard a noise behind him and half turned to see Elora picking herself out of the sand. “You alright?”

            “Beyond having sand in places it shouldn’t be?” she muttered. “I’m fine.”

            Smiling faintly, Cullen started forward again. They’d been in the Hissing Wastes for a week, leaving Kirkwall a week after their basic training had finished. Normally it ran two weeks, but they’d finished it in one so they’d been sent out here. He wasn’t overly pleased with that, there was plenty to do in Kirkwall, but he had followed orders. He had told himself that getting Elora out of the city would probably be best for their first missions as a unit in case anything went wrong.

            There had been a couple hitches in her magic that had been worrisome during training, but it had been attributed to her body balancing out as she came off of the meds her therapist had prescribed. Chantry and Templar regulations forbid the use of medication in active Templars and mages, the drugs conflicting with the lyrium in both of their systems. If you were out in the field, you needed to be as sharp as you could and prescriptions combined with lyrium never ended well. If you weren’t on a roster, then the drugs could be taken but there were tests upon tests that needed to be done before you were put back to work. The safety of others and of the Templars themselves was too important to risk it.

            Elora had been on the drugs for nearly five years and they’d talked about whether her coming off of them was a good idea or not. She hadn’t been completely sure but this was what she wanted and had pointed out that they had Cassandra with them. Who better to keep track of her than a Seeker of Truth? The Knight-Commanders had approved them for the mission, so whatever she’d been on couldn’t conflict that badly. He’d conceded the point but he was watching her as well. He knew it would take her a bit to even out and thought that work outside the city would be preferable to anything on the streets. He hadn’t expected to be posted so far out but they’d heard rumours of strange magical activity out in the sand dunes and the Knight-Commanders had figured his team was the best suited for it. For whatever reason. Sending a newly formed team out on a mission like this didn’t seem like the wisest course of action, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

            Cresting the top of yet another dune, Cullen sighed and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He’d taken off his helmet a while ago, the sweat pooling in it making his skin itch, but he was tempted to put it back on if it would block some of the damn sun’s rays. They'd done most of their runs at night to avoid dehydration and exhaustion but this one had been too far out and the sun was already high in the sky despite still being some distance from camp. They were still good on water but he was beginning to think they would need to take shelter while the sun was at its peak. It would be good for all of them because at this point someone was going to drop from the heat and he didn’t want to carry anything more. Or worse make one of them try to haul him through the sand.

            Stopping at the top of the dune, Cullen scanned the area, looking for something, anything to give them shelter. There wasn't a whole damn lot, but he thought he saw pillars in the distance. The scouts had told them about dwarven ruins littering the sandscape and they had come across a few heading out to the site but they hadn't investigated any of them.

            "Are we stopping?" Elora asked quietly as she came up beside him.

            Cullen pointed to the blurs in the distance. "We need to get there. Most of the ruins were underground so we'll take shelter there for a few hours. Until the worst of this had passed."

            "I think all of this is the worst," she muttered.

            He glanced at her again. She was outfitted in the grey fatigues all mages working with Templars wore. Strands of hair that had come loose from her braids were sticking to her face. Under her sunglasses, her nose was sunburnt despite everything she had done to keep it from happening. She was still wearing her helmet, refusing to carry any more than she was and saying it was just fine on her head. She was a Chantry mage, outfitted for combat and dying in the sun.

            He'd give her credit, however. Despite her discomfort, she barely complained about it. She hadn't been pleased when he'd told her they were coming out here but she'd kept it to herself after that initial twist of her mouth. It had taken her a little bit to adjust to being awake all night and sleeping during the day but she hadn't been the only one. This place was the back end of Southern Thedas and was probably one of the worst places he had ever been sent to. He'd spent the first day here doing nothing but reading reports and figuring out where to go first, dripping in sweat despite the ice runes embedded in every tent and cursing the Knight-Commanders for sending them out here.

            Elora sighed deeply before looking at him. "Should we keep moving?"

            He looked over his shoulder and saw Cassandra was watching him expectantly as well. "Move," he said quietly, stepping forward.

            Elora made a noise before he heard her following. The sand was packed under their feet but there was still a layer that shifted with the wind and wasn't completely stable. It made walking on the actual dunes hard because you were constantly losing your footing. And then sand got everywhere. Every day, clothes were being shaken out and even then sand was still caught in them.

            His gaze kept moving between his footing and the area around him as Cullen walked, unwilling to devote all of his attention to only one of them. Beyond the bandits and criminals hiding out in the dunes, there were wicked beasts that came out of nowhere. Most of them were nocturnal, but there were a few braver ones that endured the sunlight to get a meal. He refused to be a meal for anything so his gaze kept moving.

            They were half way down the dune when he heard Elora squawk and Cassandra shout at her. He started to turn, gun coming up in case he had missed something, but he stopped when Elora went tumbling past him. He stared as she rolled all the way down the dune before slumping in a heap at the bottom. "Fuck," he muttered, gripping his gun and starting down the dune a little quicker. "You alright?" he called.

            "Just leave me to die," she called back weakly.

            He couldn't stop his low chuckle and heard Cassandra echo it. It hadn't taken long to figure out that Elora Trevelyan did not like embarrassing herself, especially not in front of other people. Falling down a hill was definitely embarrassing and she wasn't going to want to move. But she would have to. Crouching beside her when he reached her, he gently shook her shoulder. "Come on, Elora," he said. "You can't stay here."

            "Yes I can," she said petulantly. "I can just die here."

            "I'm not going to let you die here."

            "Just go, Captain. Leave me."

            He shook his head and pulled her until she was sitting up. "On your feet, Knight-Enchanter."

            "No."

            Rolling his eyes, Cullen shrugged and shifted his grip on her. Her squeal rang in his ears as he hefted her onto his shoulder and stood up. "Well I don't leave people behind."

            "Maker, Cullen, put me down!" she shouted, flailing as he kept her over his shoulder.

            "Stop squirming," he told her, starting forward and ignoring Cassandra's chuckles. "I'll drop you."

            "Put me down!" she repeated.

            "You going to walk?" he asked.

            "Yes!"

            He walked a few more paces before he hauled her off his shoulder, setting her on her feet in front of him. Her face was completely flushed, her glasses and helmet askew as she tugged her fatigues down. "Better?" he asked dryly.

            She glared at him as she finished fixing all of her gear. "That was uncalled for, Captain," she muttered.

            He almost pointed out to her that she had used his name but thought better of it. He gave her a small smile instead before turning her to face the distant pillars. "You're on your feet," he told her. "And not dying."

            She kept muttering as she stomped away from him, shaking her arms to get the sand out. She didn't look back at him as she kept moving and he was glad because he was grinning enough to piss her off more.

            "You're lucky she didn't shock you," Cassandra said as she came up to him.

            "She's too polite to do that," he told her as they followed the mage.

            "Don't try to push her past that civility, Cullen. Any mage that has that kind of power with fire magic has a temper on them and you don't want to be on the receiving end of it."

            He knew that and he wasn't pushing her on purpose. He appreciated the politeness but he had a good idea that that wasn't who she really was. She got on well enough with both of them but he felt like she was holding back, that she was using the politeness as a wall between them and her. Maybe because of what happened with her first team?

            It wouldn’t surprise him. He had put up walls between himself and practically everyone he had met when he’d transferred from Ferelden to Kirkwall. If he was completely honest with himself, he hadn’t dropped most of them. He hadn’t made many friends within the Templars in the Free Marcher city and even fewer since he’d been promoted to Knight-Captain. Templars came from all over to serve in the different branches, but most of them hadn’t liked that he’d been given the title over those that had served for years in Kirkwall. He didn’t make those decisions and he wasn’t going to skip over a promotion because it stepped on toes. So he had dealt with the fallout the promotion had caused and hadn’t looked back.

            Of course, he knew his reasons for being promoted weren’t exactly the greatest and now it made his stomach roil to think of why he had been given the title. But he refused to step down, was attempting to use his title for something more than the brutality the Templars in Kirkwall were known for. It was almost impossible to do when most of the others didn’t care as much and he knew he was burning bridges with a lot of them. But…it didn’t sit well with him, the way things were changing by inches in Kirkwall.

            He shook the thoughts from him. Now wasn’t the time to look at them. Not when he was on a mission in the middle of fucking nowhere without the chance of backup if something went wrong. Elora was still several paces ahead of them, talking to herself and waving one of her hands sharply. It was a common occurrence where she was concerned and he knew that if she kept going, sparks would start dancing between her fingers. She seemed to do it to blow off steam, small bursts of magic that were contained and controlled. She never did it in a crowd, always kept it to herself, but he had seen it while they’d been training that first week. She would sit apart after a run, a book in her lap and her fingers constantly moving while lightning or fire rippled over her mitt.

            He wasn't even sure she knew she was doing to most of the time.

            As they drew closer to the ruins, Elora fell back, letting him pass her as was protocol for going underground. "Spent a lot of time in caves?" he said quietly, bringing his gun up.

            "Lyrium is underground," she murmured.

            True enough. She had told them that her field of study was lyrium, that her team was primarily focused on working with the dwarves out of Orzammar and the rediscovered Kal'Hirol. She had failed to mention she had been one of the main pushers on all of the literature on the mineral but he had looked into it after she had mentioned it. She didn't want to talk about it though and had kindly requested he leave it alone when he had asked. Especially when he'd asked why no one had taken up the research since she had stopped.

            As he rounded the pillars, gaze focused on the stairs leading below ground, he felt the double barrier slide over him, one skin tight to him and the other forming more of a bubble six inches from the other. She didn't leave anything to chance, not where people's safety was concerned. "Seeker, with me," he said quietly, pulling off his glasses and starting down the stairs.

            Cassandra quickly joined him, watching the left as they descended into the gloom. After the glaring light above them, it was disorienting to be in sudden darkness. But Elora didn't conjure any light, knowing they didn't want it in case something was down here and they gave themselves away before they could spot it.

            The cavern was dead silent around them, the only sound coming from their careful steps. When they came to a narrow door, Cullen gestured at Elora. She inhaled quietly before her fatigues rustled as she moved and light flared in the next room. There was a startled scuffle as every inch of the room was illuminated and he and Cassandra moved.

            He slipped through the door first, taking the right side and the spider that was coming toward him fast. The shots rang out fast and loud, echoing in the room as they drove through the thick exoskeleton of the abnormally large insect. He heard Cassandra's gun firing in short bursts and the snap of lightning that lashed out to jump between the spiders further in the room.

            His back swung to the wall as the spider in front of him dropped and the first shield hissed as something hit it. "Shit," he muttered, dropping his gun to pull out the machete through his belt.

            The poisonous spider spat at him again and he knew the barrier wasn't going to hold out long against it. Elora's barriers were good but nothing could withstand repeated hits. Of course, that was the point of her double barrier but the inner one was more an added minute to allow them to dispatch the enemy without any hesitation.

            But the spider was too close for the machine gun and just out of range of the blade. He'd have to move fast.

            It reared up to spit again and he dove into a roll. The poison still struck and the barrier dissolved with a pop, but his roll put him just under the reared front of the creature.

            Swinging sharply, ichor sprayed against the inner shield as he sheared the front two legs from its body. It screeched in pain, dropping down in an attempt to pin him. But he'd already reversed the grip on the machete and was swinging it back the other way.

            Cleaving the head from its body, he rolled to the side to avoid the dropping corpse and survey the room. The only spiders moving were twitching from the after effects of Elora's chain lightning. "Clear?"

            "Clear!" Cassandra called from the far side of the room.

            Pushing himself to his feet, he made a slight face as he watched the ichor slide down the inner barrier before it popped outward to spare him from being covered in it. "Elora?"

            "Fine," she said.

            He looked at her as she reached out to the light swirling in the middle of the room and dampened it. She gave him a faint smile when she noticed him watching her before she jerked her chin forward.

            "Another room?" she asked.

            Spiders had a tendency to swarm out of all rooms when one of their own was attacked so he was sure the next room would be empty, but he nodded. They cleared everything before they settled in to skip the afternoon heat. "On Cassandra," he told her.

            Elora hurried across the room to where the Seeker was already at the door. He followed as they swept into the next room, noticing Elora had recast the barrier at some point. He almost told her it was a waste of mana but he kept his mouth shut. She was doing her job and it wasn't something to be criticised over.

            But the light from the first room was enough for them to see most of the room and that it was empty.

            "Clear," Cassandra said firmly.

            Elora sighed quietly and the barriers around them all dissolved. "Always spiders," she muttered, flicking her fingers at the centre of the room and creating a second light in the new room. "Why is it always spiders?"

            Cullen slung his gun off his shoulder and rolled it as he set the weapon aside. "Would you prefer something else? Say darkspawn?"

            She shuddered. "Having explored part of the Deep Roads, no, no I would not prefer darkspawn."

            He chuckled slightly and looked around. It was an odd room, with four pillars in the centre of it. Each pillar had a slab of rock mounted on it and he wasn't surprised when Elora moved over to one of them to look at it. "Can you read Dwarven?" he asked, shrugging off his bag and groaning slightly at the sudden tension that sprang up as soon as it was gone. Shit, he hadn't even realised it was that bad.

            “Very, very little,” she admitted. “They’re fussy about all of their things, language included.”

            Cullen glanced at Cassandra as she set up near the door, taking her bag off as well and settling down so she had a clear line of sight into the next room. “Elora, dim the light,” she said quietly, rifling through her bag for something.

            “Okay,” she said absently and she waved her hand at the other room.

            Moving his equipment to sit on the other side of the door from Cassandra, Cullen leaned back against the wall with a deep groan, rolling his shoulder again.

            “Get her to take a look at it,” Cassandra said quietly, tossing him a bottle of water which he barely caught.

            “It’s good. I’ll have a Spirit Healer check it when we get back,” he dismissed.

            She made an irritated sound. “You’re not doing yourself any favours, Cullen,” she continued. “Elora has more than enough healing skills to at least look at your back and figure out if it’s severe damage.”

            “It’s not severe. I know it’s not.” Of course, he knew the root cause of it had been severe and he had been told repeatedly growing up to proceed with caution, to not overdo it. He wished he had listened more to that advice when he’d been younger because he was paying for it now. But hindsight was the best sight after all.

            “If you don’t ask her, I will. We can’t afford to have you dropping on us in the middle of a battle.”

            “Have I ever done that?” he demanded. “Have I ever given less than anyone else that I’ve been paired with?”

            Her lips pursed before she shook her head. “Of course you haven’t, but if you continue to abuse yourself in this way, you won’t last. I have no doubt in your abilities, Cullen, I wouldn’t partner with you if I did. I’m only concerned for your wellbeing.”

            Which he appreciated but he was fine. He had regular checkups with a Chantry Spirit Healer and they hadn’t pulled him from duty. Plus there was no lying to a mage healer so he couldn’t get away with not giving all of the information they would need. Not that he needed to speak really, all they had to do was touch him to determine just how serious or minor an injury was. “I will check in with a Spirit Healer when we get back to camp,” he repeated.

            “You had better,” she muttered, tearing off a piece of dried meat to chew on.

            He didn’t want to but he would since he knew she would follow up on it to see if he actually had. Unscrewing the lid on the water bottle, he let his gaze return to Elora. She had hauled out paper from her own pack, placing it over the tablets to take rubbings of them. He could see her lips moving as she went over the words, fingers following the sharp edges of the script. Her gaze moved constantly from the rubbings in her hand to the tablets and he watched as she moved from one to the other, rechecking the papers. “Anything interesting?” he called, taking a long pull from the water.

            “I’m not sure,” she admitted, looking over her shoulder at the tablet behind her. “I can only make out a few words at most. I don’t know which dialect this is, but it’s old. Far older than the stuff I’d seen in my time in the thaigs.”

            He took another drink before reaching into a pouch on his hip. His fingers lingered against the cool glass for a moment, feeling the lyrium singing under it, calling to the rest of it that was humming through his blood. He hadn’t expended any particular energy fighting the spiders and as trying as the day was, he wasn’t drained. Forcing his hand away, he fought a sigh. It was such a habit to turn to the lyrium after a battle, no matter what he had fought. And that was a bad habit to have.

            “Hmm, I wonder,” Elora mumbled, drawing his attention back to her.

            “What are you doing?” he called, watching her as she wandered around to the far side of the pillar. “Elora?”

            “One second! I want to try something!”

            Cullen felt something heavy settle in his stomach as those words echoed slightly through the room. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” he called back to her. “Maybe wait until-”

            There was a pop and a whooshing noise as she summoned fire-green fucking fire?!-that lit up the brazier on the back of the pillar. For a second, time seemed to stand still before there was a loud crack coming from the centre of the room and the area was flooded with the smell of raw ozone. That scent was the prelude to one thing and one thing only.

            “Demons!” Cullen shouted, pushing to his feet and picking up his gun even as he watched the large arm of lava reach out of the summoning circle on the floor. “Elora, move!”

            “I can’t!” she yelled, backing further away as several shades started appearing as well.

            He felt a barrier snap around him and Cassandra and wanted to shout at her again. They were too far apart. She wouldn’t have one on herself. “Bloody Void!” he spat, drawing on the lyrium in his veins even as he felt Cassandra using her own abilities as she charged forward.

            Her machete bit deep into a shade before it had even fully formed and she was already drawing on her formidable will to unleash a stream of light that stunned the rest of the demons. “Cullen!” she snapped.

            Shit. Moving quickly, he swapped the gun for his machete, knowing it would easily do greater damage than the bullets. There were already several shades between him and Elora, who had backed herself into a corner to keep them from coming up behind her. The air was alive with electricity as it jumped from demon to demon. It was enough to stun them further, giving him time to cut down one of the ones in his way.

            His face twisted as it dissolved into a horrible smelling puddle on the ground but he kept moving. The demons would go for Elora first, recognizing her as a mage, and, while they didn’t need to possess anything anymore, they would still rather take control of her. He jerked back as a sharp burst of fire ripped out of her hands and swallowed a shade that had gotten too close, the heat rolling over his skin. It licked at the edges of the barrier, pushing against it and weakening it further. “Get over here!” he yelled at her.

            He was sure, that in any other situation, she would have glared at him, but as it was, she only threw him a look before attempting to move from her corner. She cried out in frustration as another demon surged forward to stop her. “Go away!” she screamed at it, palms outstretched toward it and slamming it with a lightning bolt.

            Shit! He couldn’t get to her and he had lost track of the damn rage demon! “Elora, move!”

            “I’m trying!” she snapped before he saw her face pale suddenly.

            Cullen chanced a look and wished he hadn’t. Cassandra had had the rage demon’s attention but Elora’s shout had made it swing around to look at her. One of the shades left had swung behind it to engage the Seeker and allow the demon to advance on his mage. “No,” he spat, tensing as he pulled on the lyrium in his veins. He was not losing another mage, not like this, not her. “Shield yourself and hold it!”

            Elora’s face jerked to him and her eyes widened. He thought he heard her squeak but he saw the shiver in the air that was the herald of the barrier forming around her. Her hands were still outstretched to continue ripping into the shades around her but he could see her shaking. She was fire based and so was the rage demon. Whatever attacks she threw at it, weren’t going to do enough damage.

            “Andraste preserve me,” he muttered, running forward. His body smashed into one of the shades, driving it into the pillar even as steel cut through it. When it was nothing but a smear on the stone, he pivoted so that he was facing the rage demon. A deep breath, a surge of lyrium inside him, and the room shook as he unleashed a smite on the demons closest to him. Including the rage demon.

            It wasn’t enough to kill them, but it gave him more than enough time to charge forward to deal with the rage demon. He heard Cassandra’s boots against the stone floor, coming toward him from the other side of the demon. They hit it at the same time, blades digging deep before ripping chunks out of its body. They made hissing noises as they hit the ground, dissolving into the same mess as the shades. But it wasn’t dead. If anything, it was more pissed than it already was.

            Dodging a swiping arm, Cullen took a step back, readying another swing. He swore sharply as he felt hot claws rake over his arm as he got too close, intense heat flooding his arm and singing his fatigues. “Fuck off,” he spat, swinging hard at where its neck should be.

            Clawed hands swiped at him but he managed to avoid them as he kept his grip on the blade and pushed harder. He only had to go half way, sever where the spinal cord would be if it was human and-The smell of burning flesh flooded the room as the demon slid to the floor in a darkening ooze and Cullen used the momentum of his strike to swing around to face Elora again. His heart seized when he saw that she was slumped on the floor, her expression dazed even as she struggled to cast more spells. She had gotten caught in the smite. _She had gotten caught in the smite!_ “Cassandra!”

            She was already moving, charging forward like a damned great bear and tearing through the shades left as they closed in on Elora. Her right hand closed on the spindly arm of one, hauling it back and onto her blade. It dissolved with a screech as she moved on to another.

            He let her deal with them, moving forward to grip one of Elora’s arms as he crouched beside her. When all she did was blink at him, he swore again and pulled her over his shoulder. She landed with a grunt as he stood quickly, his arm wrapping around her legs to keep her there. His knees wavered for a moment, protesting the sudden action, but he was moving as fast as he could, using Cassandra as cover as he made for the door. “Seeker!”

            “Just get her out!” she shouted, irritation evident in her voice.

            Gritting his teeth, he carried his bundle of mage through the archway of the door. He spun to face it as soon as he was through, just daring anything to come to it. But Cassandra was good. He watched as she angrily dispatched the last of the shades with harsh hacks of the machete and short curses flung at them. When the room was clear, he didn’t go back into it, instead turning to march toward one of the far walls.

            He pulled Elora off his shoulder, keeping his hands on her when she swayed on her feet. Her gaze was glassy and she was continually licking her lips. She had gotten caught hard. “Shit,” he muttered, pulling her into his arms as he sank down to sit on the floor again. “I’m sorry, Elora. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

            Trembles were running the length of her as she weakly grasped at his fatigues. She was making desperate little noises in the back of her throat, pain and terror running through them.

            Pulling off her helmet, he tossed it aside before he ran his hand over her hair and then down her back. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re alright.”

            She pressed her face against his neck and he felt the tears sliding down her cheeks wet his skin.

            Cullen’s head thumped back against the wall and he watched Cassandra bring their gear into the room. His heart was still pounding but he could feel exhaustion setting in. He wasn’t going to be getting up anytime soon. When she set both his and Elora’s packs near him, he quietly said, “Thank you.”

            She nodded before going back into the other room to grab her own gear. Once it was set near the door, Cassandra looked at him before jerking her head at the entrance. “I’m going to radio camp and inform them we’re going to be late,” she said.

            He nodded but he knew she wasn’t asking for permission. Late was an understatement. Depending on how hard she had been hit, it would be hours before Elora was back on her feet and steady enough to use her magic properly. Best case scenario, they’d be out of here in a handful of hours. Worst case, they would be stuck here overnight. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the time he was going to need to recover. Smites, all in all, weren’t difficult to preform, but they were generally more suited to smaller groups of individuals, single apostates being hunted down. Not entire rooms full of demons. “I’m sorry,” he said again, rubbing her back firmly. “I didn’t mean for you to get caught in it.”

            A low noise left her and she shifted closer to him, hands tightening further in his fatigues.

            Sighing again, Cullen sullenly stared across the room while she shook in his arms. This entire trip was a bust and this was a horrible note to end it on. Smiting his own mage. Bloody Void, that was a rookie mistake. But maybe he had thrown too much into it, shattering her barrier because she hadn’t been ready for it. He had hoped the barrier would absorb most of the smite, that she would be barely affected by it. But like many things, he wasn’t lucky in the small matters.

            He closed his eyes and let his cheek rest on top of her head as more helpless noises spilled out of her. “I’m so sorry, Elora,” he said softly.


	5. A Detour

            “Hey, Yoney,” Elora murmured, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she fiddled with the kettle. “I haven’t heard from you in a while and I’m starting to get worried. Which is probably evident from the seven messages I’ve now left you. Shit. Uhm, just, call me back when you can, yeah? Please? I miss you and love you. Talk to you soon?”

            Dropping the phone into her hand, she hung up and glared at the screen. It wasn’t unusual to not hear from her cousin for long periods of time, his work with the peace-corps took him to interesting places that didn’t always have cell reception. Or he forgot to charge his phone. Or he broke it. But he was usually on top of getting back to her in small ways, just to let her know he was still alive since he knew she worried.

            Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case this time. She hadn’t gotten any word from him in well over a month now. The last time they had spoken was shortly before she’d applied to return to the Templars. Elora knew that Ionas was more than capable of taking care of himself, but they had always been close and she was starting to think the worst had happened.

            “Don’t be daft,” she muttered, setting the phone aside to pour the water into her cup. “If the worst has happened, someone would have contacted you. He’s fine. He’s probably broken his phone again and will get back to you once they’re in somewhere civilized.”

            Maker, please let him be alright.

            Leaning back against the counter, Elora stared at her kitchen without really seeing it. She had never really thought about what she would do if something bad had happened to her cousin. She knew that peace-corps work wasn’t always easy, sometimes harder than being part of the actual army, but it had never occurred to her that he could….

            “Stop it,” she told herself, hurrying away from the kitchen before coming back when she realised she’d left her tea and phone. “He’s fine. He survives. Ionas Trevelyan always survives. And if he hasn’t, well you’ll just have to find him and kill him yourself.”

            That did not make her feel better. At all.

            Wandering into her living room, she was about to sit down before a deep groan left her. Groceries. She was supposed to do adult things today, like groceries and laundry. Wrinkling her nose, she glanced at the clock. It was only eleven. She had plenty of time to do things. She could sit for a bit and read or play a game and completely not do anything adult.

            “Shit,” she muttered, wandering back into the kitchen to pull down a travel mug. Transferring her tea, she left the lid off to let it cool and went in search of her purse. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure where it had wound up since it had been over two weeks since she had seen it last. No reason to take it into the Hissing Wastes and she hadn’t left the apartment since she’d been dropped off three days ago. That was more than enough time for the bag to go completely missing, along with all of the important things in it. Like her money. And bus pass. She kind of needed both if she was going to get groceries.

            Muttering to herself, she wandered into her bedroom and cried out happily when she saw the canvas strap peeking out from under her bed. Ignoring the sudden ache in her back when she bent over to pick it up, Elora glanced at herself in the mirror. Baggy sweater and work out pants weren't the hottest thing to wear but it was just groceries not a date. No makeup on her face and hair in big curls around her face since she had decided not to put it up after having a shower today. But again, groceries, nothing important. Unless she just happened to meet her future husband at the grocery store.

            Snorting as she tucked away her phone, she went back through her apartment, flicking lights off as she went. She scooped up her keys as she left and locked the door. It was childish but she stuck her tongue out at her neighbour's door as she passed it. She hadn't spoken to him since Cassandra and Cullen had come to her apartment but she'd bumped into him a couple times.

            The first time he'd seemed surprised she was still a free mage but the second had been priceless. She'd come home in her fatigues, two more sets slung in a bag over her shoulder when he'd stepped out of his apartment. He'd openly stared at her, horror on his face. She had taken sick satisfaction in the green colour he'd turned when she had saluted him before going into her apartment. She hadn't seen him since and she was hoping it stayed that way.

            Elora skipped the elevator, telling herself the stairs were better to keep her in shape. She had definitely forgotten how gruelling training and fighting was. The first day she had collapsed in a dead sleep on the couch and had only made it to the tub to soak for a couple hours before she had fallen asleep again. The second day had been a fraction better, she'd made it to her bed at least before her legs had given out.

            She decided against checking the mail right now, not feeling like carrying anything to the store. Returning the smile and wave of one of the little boys playing in the entrance way, Elora started toward the door before she stopped abruptly as she saw who was on the other side of the glass.

            Knight-Captain Cullen was staring at the buzzer panel, his lips moving as he read over the names.

            Did he know someone else in the building? She nearly smacked herself. The odds were extremely low for that happening which meant he was here to see her. After being completely silent to her in the time they'd been back in Kirkwall. They'd been home for three days and he hadn't spoken to her once the entire time. He'd barely looked at her on the flight back and she didn't know why. They'd been good for the remainder of the time in the Hissing Wastes after the incident in the ruins but when they had been told they were going back he had shut down. At least to her. He’d still spoken to Cassandra regularly. She didn't know if she'd done something to offend him and she hadn't wanted to ask in case she made it worse.

            She didn't know much about the Knight-Captain, but she had gathered he was an incredibly private person. He kept his emotions well checked and she had a hard time getting a read in him. Cassandra could get him to smile but he only did it for Elora when she made a fool of herself which seemed to be frequently.

            Elora winced when he punched in a buzz code and hurried to the door. "Hey," she said quietly as it opened.

            He drew back in surprise before looking at her with a puzzled frown. "Interesting intercom you have," he said dryly.

            Elora snorted. "No, I was just on my way out when I saw you. I'd be alarmed if that happened every time someone buzzed me." Not that anyone did. She didn't have family or friends in Kirkwall with Ionas gone. But that wasn’t something she had any interest in talking about. “Can I help you? Was there something you needed?”

            “Ah, to talk to you, but if you’re on your way out, I can wait.”

            She shrugged. “It’s just groceries. Nothing important no matter how much my stomach may protest that fact.”

            His brows drew together. “Are you eating enough? For the amount of mana you use, you’d need-”

            “A decent amount of food,” she finished. “Don’t worry, we established at the Academy that using a combination of fire and lightning the majority of the time meant bigger meals. Trust me, Knight-Captain, I eat enough.”

            He nodded and she suddenly felt bad. She didn’t eat enough or rather didn’t eat enough of what she should be eating. There were days when it was nothing but horrible food because she couldn’t work up the will to make anything half ways decent. Then the following days were spent feeling like crap because being a mage and eating greasy food did not go well together. Fluctuating mana and random surges of magic that had the lights flickering were a common occurrence when she gave in and, at twenty-eight, she should know better. But sometimes she just wanted the Maker damned burger and fries.

            Of course, now that she was off the meds and regularly using her magic, she was being a little more careful with what she ate, had a little more energy to actually want to make something decent. She wasn’t going to let anyone down because she wanted to eat an entire bag of chips instead of an actual proper meal.

            “So,” she said slowly, rocking on her feet, “why exactly are you in my end of town?”

            Cullen stared at her for a moment before rubbing the back of his neck. “This seemed easier in my head,” he muttered.

            “Want to walk and talk?” Elora asked, gesturing for them to get out of the doorway.

            “If you have time and don’t mind a small detour, I could drive you,” he offered.

            She stopped moving and looked at him. “What?” she said in surprise.

            “I thought I had the right words but I clearly don’t so this might take longer than I anticipated. If I drive you, it’ll give me enough time to sort it out.”

            She was definitely staring at him now. Right words? Enough time? “Knight-Captain, I don’t know what you think you need the right words for, but if you think you’ve done something wrong, I can tell you that you haven’t.”

            “Except I have,” he sighed, “and I haven’t made it any better since getting back to Kirkwall.”

            “Okay, I’m confused,” she said, planting her hands on her hips as she faced him fully. “How about you just say it?”

            “And make it worse? No. Unless you don’t want me to drive you? I can understand that and come back later.”

            Elora’s nose wrinkled. She hadn’t really liked the thought of taking the bus because the system sucked in this city. No matter where she sat or what route she took, she always wound up with some creepy old man leering at her from the seat beside hers. He had said something about a detour without mentioning where he was going but it couldn’t be worse than that. And she had just meant walk to the bus stop not the actual store. If she could wheedle it, maybe he could give her a ride home so she could buy more groceries.

            “I can buy you a coffee if you’d like?” he offered. “To apologize for the detour.”

            “Oh, no, I have tea….” She trailed off and frowned. “That I left on the counter.”

            His lips twitched slightly but he didn’t smile. “Let me drive you, Elora. Please.”

            Looking away from him, she blew out her cheeks before sighing. “Alright. Are we detouring first or second?” she asked.

            “First,” he confirmed, starting toward the parking lot. “It shouldn’t take long, but things never seem to go as planned at the Gallows.”

            Elora stopped walking and squeaked, “The Gallows?!”

            He glanced at her. “Yes. Didn’t I mention that?”

            “No!”

            “Oh,” he muttered, looking away. “Well, ah, if you want, we can skip this and I can just come back another time.”

            Elora groaned slightly and shook her head. “No, I’m a big girl. I can handle the Gallows, especially if you’re there and I know I haven’t done anything wrong. …Right?”

            “It isn’t about you,” he assured her, gesturing at a car in one of the visitor spots. “It’s about me.”

            She started to frown  at that before she smiled at him when he opened the door for her. “Thank you,” she murmured, sitting down and still wondering what he could have done that would warrant going to the Gallows. “Enlighten me, if you would,” she said when he joined her in the car. “Why would you need to go to the Gallows when you’re stationed in the barracks in the city?”

            “Wasn’t always,” he admitted, starting the car. “When I transferred from Ferelden, it was to the Gallows and I was there for five years before I got moved into the city proper. Knight-Commander Meredith is still technically my commanding officer but I usually report to Knight-Commander Tomas since he runs the Barracks. Recent events, however, require a visit to the Gallows.”

            Recent events? “Oh, no. No, please tell me it’s not because of what happened in the Hissing Wastes!” she cried, the only thing that came to mind that he could remotely get in trouble for.

            His eyes slid to her before they went back to the road.

            Maker! “Knight-Captain, it was an accident. You, me, and Cassandra all agreed. It was just a series of bad events that started with my stupid mistake of lighting the brazier, which I will never be doing again. If anyone is to blame it’s-”

            “Me,” he interrupted. “I was senior officer, I was in charge of the run. It’s all on me.”

            She glared at him. “Bullshit,” she said firmly.

            Cullen snorted. “Say what you will, Elora. The cards have already been dealt.”

            Her hands fisted in her seat belt and her glare shifted to the dashboard. It was complete and absolute bullshit for him to get into trouble for something that was her fault. She shouldn’t have just decided to light the brazier when she wasn’t completely sure what the stone slabs had actually said. She didn’t care if he was senior officer or in charge; he had told her not to and she had still done it. If there was a punishment to be dealt out, it should fall on her.

            “It’s alright,” he said quietly, pulling her attention back. “It’s nothing more than a written reprimand, but the Knight-Commander wanted me to personally deliver my report to her.”

            That didn’t sound like it was only going to be a written reprimand. She had heard horror stories about the Gallows at Ostwick’s Academy and it had turned into a taunt some of the older students had thrown at the younger kids.

            _Be good or they’ll send you to the Gallows to die. Knight-Commander Meredith will eat you in the night if you aren’t good!_

            She shivered slightly. She hadn’t been to the Gallows since moving to Kirkwall five years ago. She had reported in to both the Templar Barracks in the city and the branch of the government office that dealt with mages when she had moved. Her location and intent had been recorded into both of their systems and that had been that. No need to go to the Gallows.

            “Elora, I’m sorry.”

            Blinking, she looked at him. They were stopped at a light but he wasn’t looking at her. His hands were tight around the wheel and his gaze was locked on the road in front of them. “For what?” she asked. “Taking me to the Gallows?”

            Cullen shook his head. “No. The Hissing Wastes. I…that never should have happened. It was a dumb move and I’m sorry.”

            “Wait, are you talking about the smite? Holy Maker, that’s why you haven’t been talking to me?” she said in shock. “Are you serious?!”

            His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “It was a rookie move,” he said tightly. “You were too close and I knew that and I still did it. Smites don’t tell the difference between friend and foe and I knew that. I knew it was going to hit you and I still did it.”

            “I could very well be dead if you hadn’t,” she said firmly. “And it was an accident! You told me to hold the barrier and I tried but I was too close. There’s nothing we could have done about that. The shades had me pinned and you had to stop that rage demon.”

            He shook his head again as they started moving. “No, there could have been another way.”

            “Maybe, maybe not. It was an accident either way.”

            “Which hurt you more than the rest of us.”

            “Also still the one that got us into that situation.”    

            Cullen sighed harshly. “I’m trying to apologize for hurting you, Elora. Will you just let me do that?” he demanded.

            “No, because you don’t have anything to apologize for!” she said firmly. “Besides, you were apologizing nonstop after you did it. You don’t need to do it more.”

            “You’re being too kind. No mage likes that happening to them.”

            “You’re right. I didn’t like it but it’s not like you just walked away and left me to deal with it on my own. Nor did you do it out of spite. I understand why it happened, Captain, and if you’re beating yourself up because of it, please stop. That’s not going to get us anywhere.”

            He sighed again but this time she heard exhaustion in it.

            “How are you doing?” she asked. “That…wasn’t easy on you either.”

            “I’m fine,” he dismissed. “The lyrium in my system has been replenished and beyond paperwork, I’ve done nothing for the past three days but rest.”

            Elora hummed softly to let him know that she had heard him but she wasn’t sure she believed him. That had sounded like a routine answer he had been giving people. Having worked with Templars before she knew that move did take a lot out of them, even when it was performed on only one target. He had done it to a room full of demons. She wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or terrified that he had managed to keep fighting and haul her stunned ass out of the room after doing it. Of course they’d both been useless for nearly the rest of the day and hadn’t made it back to camp until nearly the next morning.

            “I am fine,” he repeated, a little quieter this time. “I spoke with a Spirit Healer and was assured that I wouldn’t need to do anything beyond a few days’ rest. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to do when you’ve been active for so long, but I managed.”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Yes. Thank you for asking.”

            "You're welcome," she said quietly, leaning back in the seat. It was good to know he was alright. She had been worried about him, especially when he had stopped talking to her. She had been scared he might request a transfer for her and she didn't want that. She didn't want to work with anyone besides him.

            "How's your head?"

            She grimaced. "Ugh, still getting a bit of a headache if I touch the back of it but better."

            "Even with the helmet you still cracked it good."

            Yes she had. Between the magic she had been using to keep the shades at bay and what she'd been pouring into her barrier, she had recoiled hard and slammed into the wall when his smite had ripped through the room. Her helmet had shielded her from most of the damage but it had still hurt.

            Her lips turned down as she looked around and noticed the distinct change in the buildings around them. They had steadily gotten worse the closer to the ferry they had gotten. "I didn't realise I was that close to the Gallows," she muttered.

            "You're not," Cullen told her. "I'd imagine it would take much longer on the bus."

            She wasn't even sure how many buses came down here. She watched as he rolled down his window as they headed toward a booth before fishing in her purse for her ID card.

            "Do you have it?" he asked after a moment. “I should have asked before we left.”

            "No, no, it’s in here. Too many pockets," she muttered before she found it and passed it over.

            He snorted as he picked his up off the dashboard and gave them to the attendant.

            "Purpose of trip?" he asked, looking over both cards.

            "Meeting with Knight-Commander Meredith."

            "And her?"

            Elora frowned. She knew the templars ran the ferry, but she'd forgotten the ones in the Gallows were not like the ones in the Barracks. "She can speak for herself," she muttered.

            "I heard that, mage."

            "Her title is Knight-Enchanter, Templar," Cullen said flatly. "Use it or don't speak to her at all."

            "But, Knight-Captain, she's a mage!"

            "In service to the Chantry so use her title or don't speak to her," he repeated.

            Elora actually heard the man swallow before he handed back the cards without saying anything else. Her brows lifted as the guard bar rose and they were waved forward. "Are you serious?" she muttered as Cullen gave her card back and started forward. "He'd rather not speak to me than use my title?"

            "There's a reason most of these templars stay at the Gallows," he said quietly as they drove onto the ferry.

            "And they're the ones that watch the mages? How is that any good?"

            "I never said it was good, Elora. Just that these ones are kept at the Gallows."

            Well maybe that was better than dealing with the general public but.... "Doesn't seem right," she muttered.

            "Knight-Commander Meredith has particular views on mages and most of the templars stationed here share that belief."

            "Including yourself?"

            He parked the car and didn't look at her immediately. "My views sympathised with the Knight-Commander's, yes," he said quietly. "They did for a long time but events in the city forced me to look at things differently and I was eventually transferred to the Barracks."

            "What changed your mind?" Elora winced as soon as the question came out. "No, I'm sorry. That's personal and I shouldn't have asked. I'm just grateful your views have changed."

            He was silent for a long moment. "I'll answer the question," he finally said, "if you return the favour and answer one of mine."

            Her heart slammed into her throat, making it hard to breathe. She knew he had questions because she had already dodged several of them. It was only fair for him to ask if she did but...what was she supposed to do if she couldn't answer the question? There were holes in her memory and no amount of therapy had filled them in. "Ah...I don't...."

            He looked at her with a frown. "You don't want to talk about yourself that much?"

            "It isn't that. I can talk about myself just fine but that's never what anyone wants to know. It's always about the attack and I don't remember anything about it. I've tried and tried but there's nothing there!" Shit, no, he hadn't asked. She needed to calm down.

            "Hey, it's okay," he said gently. "I won't ask about that. It's clearly upsetting and it would be even if you did remember. But I'll listen if you ever want to talk about it."

            "You barely know me," she whispered.

            "And that needs to change if we're going to be working together. But that is a major life event and probably shouldn't be started with."

            "So your changing your mind about mages isn't a major life event?"

            Cullen didn’t speak as the light came on signalling they could leave the car. She followed him through the nearly empty hold to the stairs leading up to the cabin and the deck. She was grateful for the arm he offered when they got to the top because the ferry wasn’t overly large and was already rocking on the water. “Inside or out?” he asked.

            “Not picky.”

            He led her over to the railing and stared at the Gallows looming in the distance. After another long moment, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't in a good place when I was transferred to Kirkwall," he admitted. "My thoughts aligned with Meredith's more often than not, but repeat exposure to a particular mage forced me to open my eyes."

            She felt bad. This was obviously a hard topic for him to talk about since no one liked bringing up their flaws. "Sounds like an amazing mage. Anyone I know?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood just a little.

            Golden eyes flicked her a glance and he muttered a name.

            "Wait what? Did you just say Hawke? As in Olivia Hawke, Champion of the damn city?" Elora squawked, gripping the railing and telling herself it was because of the waves, not that bombshell.

            He made a face. "Yes, that Hawke."

            Elora stared at him. "You're friends with the Champion?" she demanded.

            "I wouldn't go so far as to say we’re friends. I was just the one that always wound up dealing with her whenever she was at the Gallows, which was a lot. When it became clear I was one of the few Templars she would associate with, I was transferred to the Barracks to keep her out of the Gallows. Meredith was, is, of the opinion that Olivia Hawke is a bad influence on the mages learning in the Gallows and wanted her to stay as far away as possible."

            "Did that work?"

            "Barely. Olivia Hawke goes where she wants and isn't going to let a Knight-Commander stand in her way. Although, she did tell me that she was pleased she didn't have to go to the Gallows to find me anymore. Said it was nice not to have to girdle her loins whenever she wanted to pester me."

            "Seriously?"

            "She thinks she's funny."

            Elora made a soft noise and stared out at the water. She hadn't expected that, his connection to one of the most influential people in the city. The title was antiquated to be sure and hadn't been used in ages, but after Olivia Hawke had dealt with the qunari host that had refused to leave the city, it had been dusted off and plopped on her shoulders.

            "Why Kirkwall?"

            Elora blinked and looked at him. "What?"

            "Kirkwall hasn't been stable in years," Cullen said. "If you weren't in a good place either, why come here?"

            "My cousin," she said automatically.

            "Your cousin?"

            "Yeah, me and Yoney were born barely six months apart so we've always been close."

            "Not back home with your family?"

            "My family sucks," she said simply. "A lot. He doesn't so I came to him."

            "That simple?"

            Toying with the ends of her hair with one hand, Elora thought about it. There were some things regarding her cousin that she refused to speak of, wouldn't tell anyone because it was his business to tell others, not hers. But how to explain? "Yoney was with me when I realised I had magic and kept it a secret for me," she said quietly. "It only brought us closer and I love him all the more for it."

            The ferry rocked on the waves and Cullen steadied her when she staggered slightly. "Noble families usually use suppressants."

            "I was on them, Captain," she sighed. "Certain types of magic will not be easily contained however. Fire is one of them and despite being tested regularly, and lied to about what the tests were for, to see where my abilities were settling to better treat them, lightning was always what they caught and not the fire. So I was treated for that and fire was able to get around that level of dosage."

            "Couldn't have made them happy."

            "It didn't. I was sent to the Academy as soon as they found I knew and haven't really heard from them since."

            "But the Ostwick Academy allows students to go home for holidays."

            "If the families want them," she corrected. "I never got word that they wanted me to come home so I never did. Which was alright, Yoney was sent to boarding school because he kept the secret and the one brother I was close to was already gone to Templar training so there wasn't anyone I wanted to see." She paused wistfully. "Would be nice to know what my nieces and nephews looked like though."

            The hand still on her arm squeezed gently before going back to the railing. “I can understand that,” he agreed.

            “Well, this got sad and pathetic fast,” Elora sighed. “And I’m sad and pathetic enough on my own.”

            He gave her a funny look. “Why the sudden distinction between Knight-Captain and Captain?” he asked, changing the subject.

            “Uhm, well, I kind of thought you were mad at me?” she said hesitantly. “Or I’d done something wrong so I thought I should be more official? Since Knight-Captain is officially your title, not Captain. I don’t know. You weren’t talking to me and that usually means people are mad at me. The silent treatment was big in the Trevelyan household and it was usually widespread if you did something. If it’s happening, you be formal and polite until it has passed. I just…kind of reverted.”

            Cullen made an irritated noise. “I internalize my problems,” he muttered. “I try to find a solution before I open my mouth and make a fool of myself or make it worse. You didn’t do anything, Elora.”

            “Will you tell me if I do?” she asked.

            “Are you going to stop using politeness and formality as a wall between us?”

            Her lips clamped together and she looked away sharply. No, she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to get close to him, didn’t want to get close in case something happened. She didn’t want to get hurt again, couldn’t go through that again.

            “Because you’ve been a lot less formal since I picked you up from your apartment,” he said quietly, “and I much prefer this.”

            Had she? Maker, she didn’t want to be less formal. She was a mage and…. “Security blanket,” she said tightly. “If I don’t know you, I won’t get hurt if something happens.”

            “Something?”

            “You dying, getting rid of me, being passed over, take your pick. I don’t…I don’t know. I’m not…I don’t have the words to explain it.”

            “You’re scared.”

            Yes, she was. Because she knew she worked well with Cullen, better than even the Templars she had trained with at the Academy. If she lost him, if he got rid of her, it was going to hurt. Badly.

            “You already know more about me than most Templars, than most anyone, in the city, Elora. Talking to you is easy,” he said, tapping her shoulder as the ferry pulled into the Gallows’ docks. “Easier than it should be and I’m going to call you a liar if you don’t admit the same, but it doesn’t mean anything if you don’t trust me to keep you safe. Not just from physical threats.”

            She stared at him, at the hand he was holding out to her. They’d only been a team for a little over a month and she did trust him. Even if she hadn’t from the start, the smite incident would have sealed it for her. He could have just left her to struggle through it on her own, but he hadn’t. He had been there the entire time, talking to her, holding her as she had shook, keeping her close when she had passed out. Every time she had jerked awake in a panic, he had been there to calm her back down, to talk her through the worst of her terror. He hadn’t needed to do any of that and she appreciated that he had. “I….”

            “Can you trust me, Elora?”

            Her fingers were shaking as she uncurled them from the railing and reached out for him. Their skin had barely touched when the ferry rocked harshly on a wave and she stumbled. A gasp left her when his hand snapped shut around hers, hauling her forward to crash into his chest as he steadied her. She stared wide-eyed at the buttons of his shirt, swallowing hard as she realised he was still holding her hand and the other had gripped her hip to keep her stable.

            “I’ve got you.”

            Eyes slowly closing, Elora leaned the fraction of an inch forward so her forehead bumped into his chest. Maker, help her. It didn’t matter how this panned out, it was going to hurt and she was willingly walking into it.


	6. The Gallows

            Cullen regretted bringing Elora almost as soon as they stepped off the ferry. He knew she was more than capable of holding her own but it was clear she wasn’t comfortable here. The Kirkwall Institute, commonly known as the Gallows, wasn’t the nicest place to come too. It didn’t matter if you were a mage or not, it wasn’t very hospitable. The entire building felt like a medieval prison that had barely been modified with the changing Ages. When he’d first gotten here, someone had once mentioned that it had been a housing for slaves when the Tevinter Imperium had been great and shining. He hadn’t cared enough to look into it but he believed it.

            He glanced at her as they stood in the elevator up to the senior Templars’ floors. She was watching the numbers tick by on the small screen above the doors, but one of her hands was fisted tightly around the strap of her purse and the other was curled in the loose material of her shirt. He wasn’t sure if that was an overall reaction to the Gallows or the other Templar that was in the elevator with them. He wasn’t sure making that distinction really mattered.

            Nearly every single one they had passed on their way through the building had stopped to look at her, without being subtle about it. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had kept close to him and had pinned her ID badge to her shirt as soon as they’d left the ferry, he was sure several of them would have stopped her. If she’d been with anyone besides him, each and every one of them would have demanded to know why she was out of uniform, out of classes, or a million other things of little consequence. But they knew who he was and his rank kept them from asking the questions. Didn’t stop the looks or the whispered conversations that followed them everywhere they went, however.

            He was keeping himself between the one in the elevator and her, watching him without being overt about it. He didn’t need a scene when he was going to report to Knight-Commander Meredith. That would just be the icing on the horrible cake this whole situation was. It didn’t help matters that he didn’t recognize the man, wasn’t sure who he was or what his policies were toward mages, but if he was at the Gallows that was more than enough for Cullen to figure it out. So he stayed planted between his mage and anyone else that came into the small space.

            “Which floor was it?” Elora asked quietly.

            “If you don’t know where you’re going, Mage, you shouldn’t be here.”

            Cullen actually felt Elora tense beside him but it was nothing compared to how rigid his spine went as he slowly turned to look at the other man. “She wasn’t talking to you,” he said lowly.

            “She’s a mage. Doesn’t matter who she’s talking to. If she doesn’t know where she’s going, she shouldn’t be here.”

            The doors started to open, presumably for the Templar’s floor, but Cullen’s hand shot out to hit the stop button before the other man could move. “Name and rank, Templar,” he said firmly.

            The man was eyeing him like he was some miscreant out of Darktown. “I don’t have to-”

            “Unless there’s suddenly a new Knight-Commander in the Institute that I don’t know about, you will give me your name and rank,” Cullen cut in.

            “Because I spoke to a mage?”

            “Because you’re being an asshole,” he corrected. “Name and rank.”

            “Knight-Templar Pierce Gregain,” he said sullenly.

            “You’re talking to a Knight-Enchanter who outranks you, Templar. Show her the respect she deserves.”

            “Or what? You’ll report me to the Knight-Captain?”

            Cullen levelled a look at him while Elora made a quiet noise of disbelief behind him. “I am the Knight-Captain,” he said flatly.

            No surprise, no remorse on his face, just more disgust. “You’re not the same man I heard about then,” he muttered.

            Cullen punched the button again and pointed out the opening doors. “Out,” he barked.

            “It isn’t my fl-“

            _“Out._ ”

            The man slunk out, shooting a look at Elora as he went.

            There was a pair of Templars standing on the other side of the door, their gazes moving from Pierce back to Cullen. “Knight-Captain?” one of them asked slowly.

            “Take the next one,” he told them, letting the doors close. Silence fell in the elevator as they went up a couple of floor before he sighed. “I’m sorry for bringing you here. I didn’t realise it was going to be this bad.”

            “It’s okay. I’m just very glad my uncle didn’t decide to send me here instead of Ostwick.”

            “Your uncle?” he asked, looking at her.

            She nodded, her hands slowly letting go of her purse and shirt. “Yoney’s father is the head of the family,” she explained. “The family seat is technically in Ostwick so his siblings that moved away come back regularly to report in for lack of a better word. We were there when my magic surfaced and he decided that I’d go to Ostwick. As much as they didn’t want to admit that a Trevelyan was a mage, no way would they send her any place other than Ostwick Academy for her education.”

            “Your parents didn’t get a say in the matter?”

            “I honestly don’t know. I was locked in a room by myself until they figured out what they were going to do with me.”

            Cullen stared at her, not quite sure he had actually heard that. “You were what?”

            She let out a strained laugh. “Noble family, Captain,” she said quietly. “Stain on the family name. If it weren’t for the fact that I was eight, I’m positive my uncle would have told my father to toss me into the sea.”

            He kept staring at her even as the doors opened for their floor. “Maker’s breath,” he muttered, having to catch the doors to keep them from closing before they could get out. “Elora….”

            “Don’t worry about it, Captain,” she said quietly, giving him a small smile. “It was a long time ago and I’m over it. I accepted the fact that they didn’t want me before I left the Academy.”

            Except for the fact that no parent, no family, should make a child feel like that, mage or not. “Come on,” he said, starting down the hall. “The office is down here.”

            She followed him and he didn’t miss the way she was. Close, one step behind and to the left, exactly like she would in a combat situation. It made his stomach clench to think that she viewed the Gallows as the same as being out in the field.

            He was starting to think he owed her more than a coffee for this detour.

            When they reached the end of the hall, he wasn’t surprised by the pair of Templars stationed outside of the door. “Knight-Captain Rutherford,” he told them. “I have a meeting with Knight-Commander Stannard.”

            “She’s waiting for you, Ser,” one of them said while the other knocked on the door.

            He nodded and started forward when he saw their gazes shift. He stopped abruptly when he realised they were looking at Elora. “Something wrong?” he asked calmly.

            “She’s not authorized to go in the Knight-Commander’s office.”

            Meaning she had to stay outside, with the Templars, alone. Cullen started to take a step back, all the ways this could go wrong turning over in his head when he felt her hand press against his back. Looking at her, he saw she was perfectly calm. “Elora?”

            She pointed at a small row of chairs set near the wall just down the hall. “I’m going to wait there until you come back,” she said quietly. “I won’t go anywhere or do anything. I’ll just stay there until you’re done.”

            His gaze flicked between her and the chairs. It wasn’t that far away from the doors that he wouldn’t hear if something happened but he doubted Meredith was going to just let him leave the office even if Elora was in trouble. He also wasn’t sure he could trust the Templars standing guard to watch her and not join in should any of their brothers or sisters decide to do anything against her. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice low.

            “Completely sure, Knight-Captain.”

            He almost called her out on the title before he realised she was playing by the Gallows rules. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t protested her calling him Captain-although he had said she could use his name-none of the Templars here would accept that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a student at the Institute, they would simply see a mage disobeying and react before they took the time to gather answers. “Stay there,” he said firmly.

            She nodded and looked at the Templars at the door. “Rules on cellphones, Ser?” she asked politely.

            “Mobile data and wifi are restricted on this floor,” he said, holding out his hand for the phone.

            Giving it to him, Elora nodded again. “I just want to play a game while I wait.”

            “That is permitted.”

            “Thank you, Ser,” she said as he put the phone back in her hand after a quick inspection of it.

            Maker, her manners had never been more appreciated than they were now. Cullen watched her as she went to the chairs, sitting on the one closest to the door. When she gave him a smile, he moved to the door as one of the guards opened it. He didn’t like leaving her but he had to remember, she was a Knight-Enchanter and could handle her own. Unless someone decided a smite was in order.

            He started to pause, started to turn back, but Meredith had already looked up from her desk and seen him. He took the two more steps into the room so the door could close and waited for what she wanted him to do.

            Icy blue eyes watched him for a long moment before she pointed at the chair in front of her desk. She continued to watch him as he took the seat, practically unblinking as she leaned back. “Knight-Captain Cullen,” she said quietly. “How long has it been since you’ve been back?”

            “A few years, Ser,” he said honestly. He couldn’t really remember. When the transfer had been put through, he hadn’t been entirely alright with it. He hadn’t asked for it, had wondered if Meredith was trying to get rid of him because his views didn’t align completely with hers. Not that they ever fully had but they had certainly been closer than they were now. “I’m not sure how many.”

            “The Barracks is working well for you then? I had heard you’d lost your last mage. Wyvern attack?”

            “Ah, yes, they are and yes, Jacob succumbed to wyvern poison.” Maker, he didn’t want to talk about that. He didn’t want to remember that all he did was continually fail the mages in his care. If it had only been Jacob, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but it wasn’t. He’d resisted a mage partner for years, his last years in Ferelden and his time in the Gallows, and he’d been grateful for the fact that they weren’t necessary in the school. When he’d finally been convinced to do it at the Barracks, he had told himself it wouldn’t be the same as the first and he’d been right. He knew how Jacob had died, he had never found out what had happened to Guenevere Amell.

            “And you have a new one,” she said, picking up a file to drop it in the centre of the desk and reminding him that now was not the time to think about his past mistakes. Not when he had a much bigger one in his immediate past. “A bright and shiny one from Ostwick Academy with credentials as a Knight-Enchanter.”

            Cullen didn’t outwardly squirm but his gut tightened. “Yes, Trevelyan is a Knight-Enchanter with former missions accompanying Templars.”

            “And a sealed file not even I can read. Has she told you anything about that?”

            “No, Ser.”

            “Over a month together and she hasn’t? Interesting.”

            Cullen didn’t look away from her, knew Meredith approved of strength in her Templars more than anything. He’d served with her for years before she had transferred him. She’d promoted him to Knight-Captain within the first year of him being here despite the fact that he knew he hadn’t been stable enough for the title. He hadn’t questioned it, his anger making him blind to everything. But now that he’d spent time away from the Gallows, spent time around Olivia Hawke and Elora…he had a lot of questions. “She doesn’t talk about it with anyone, Ser.”

            Meredith pushed out of her chair to walk to the window. He knew it looked out over the water toward the city but it couldn’t be much of a view since the harbour was not in a good part of town. “I’ve read the reports and all accounts state that the pair of you, along with Seeker Pentaghast, form a cohesive unit that hasn’t been seen in a long time. So explain to me how an accomplished Knight-Captain like yourself smites his own mage. Especially if she’s worked with Templars before.”

            His hands flexed slightly on the arms of his chair and he quickly forced them to uncurl before the wood made any noise from being squeezed. “The room was full of demons,” he said lowly. “All of them trying to get to her. It was the only option I could come up with on the spot. I told her to shield further but she was too close.”

            “A shield will not withstand a smite, Knight-Captain, you know that. Is this Trevelyan that strong that you thought hers would?”

            How to tell her he’d been in a state of almost panic thinking that he was going to get her killed? How to tell her he’d thrown everything he had into that smite to make sure it worked? How to tell her the terror he had felt when he’d realised he’d left her defenseless against demons that had barely been stunned? Simple. He didn’t because it would seem like over attachment and that would reek of weakness to her. “No, Ser, but I had hoped that-”

            “Hope doesn’t get you far, Cullen. If anything, it gets people killed.”

            He didn’t believe that but he kept it to himself. “Hope or not, it didn’t work. The smite shattered her barrier and left her drained.”

            “A rookie mistake that never should have happened.”

            She didn’t have to tell him that. He’d spent the past week and a half beating himself up over it. “Yes, Ser.”

            Meredith half turned to look at him. “Your report claims that you take full responsibility for the situation but she was the one that instigated it. She summoned the demons.”

            “Unintentionally,” he pointed out. “She didn’t know that demons would be summoned with lighting the brazier.”

            “You told her not to do it and she still did. That’s direct insubordination, Cullen. What was her punishment?”

            He stared at her. “It was a mistake.”

            “Disobeying a direct order is not a mistake, but you’ve answered my question. Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan was not punished for her actions which could have cost the lives of a Seeker and a Knight-Captain.”

            “And her own,” he said quietly.

            Meredith made a cutting motion with her hand. “Any mage that summons demons is taking their lives into their own hands.”

            In any other situation he would agree but not this one. Elora hadn’t done it on purpose, he knew that. Once she had stopped shaking she had started babbling about being sorry for lighting the brazier when she could barely read the dwarven. Before dissolving into tears again because her magic hadn’t come back yet and couldn’t move beyond lifting a vial of lyrium to his lips in an attempt to replenish what he had used.

            “And you brought her here.”

            Cullen straightened in his chair. “Not to be interrogated or punished,” he said, barely keeping his voice from being too firm. “She came as my guest.”

            One brow went up. “Your guest? Since when have mages been guests at the Institute?”

            “She isn’t a student. She’s finished her training, over a decade ago, and cannot be detained here.”

            “Are you telling me what I can and cannot do within my own facility, Knight-Captain?” Meredith asked flatly.

            “No, Knight-Commander. Unless she breaks Chantry law while here, she cannot be legally detained.” Why would Meredith even bring something like that up? Shit, he should have told Cassandra he was coming here today in case something happened. But he hadn’t expected to bring Elora with him. He’d just gone to apologize and then the words had gotten stuck in his throat when she had poked her head out of the door. Now he might have unintentionally gotten her in trouble.

            “And I enforce Chantry law here.”

            Cullen stared at her, fighting to keep his breathing steady. She was technically right. If Elora stepped outside the proper bounds, Meredith would be within her rights to punish her despite the fact that Knight-Commander Tomas was Elora’s commanding officer above him. He also had the feeling that no matter what happened, Elora would be-

            Both of them stiffened when they felt the tell-tale surge of lyrium within their system that meant someone was using magic nearby. Cullen didn’t wait for permission as he surged out of the chair and went for the door. He heard Meredith’s low noise of disapproval but he was already hauling the door open to see what was going on. He wasn’t sure what to think when he saw that both guards were still at the door. Stepping past them, his heart leapt into his throat when he saw that the chair Elora had been sitting on was knocked over while she was standing next to it with her fists clenched.

            Her back was to him so she didn’t see that he had come out but he didn’t want her to turn. Not when he could see the mage standing in front of her with his hand raised and outstretched toward her. “Mage,” he barked, striding into the hallway, “explain yourself.”

            His dark gaze flicked to him. “Just asking the princess what she was doing slumming here,” he said snidely. “She’s a little too sparkly to be here in the Gallows, don’t you think?”

            “And that warrants attacking her?” he demanded, coming up beside Elora and putting himself between her and the mage.

            “I didn’t attack her, Ser,” the mage tacked on with disdain. “No magic was used and you can ask the good Templars that were standing guard. If anyone pulled in mana, it was her and not me.”

            He hadn’t needed to say that. Cullen could feel that Elora’s mana was coiled inside her, waiting to be released. “Elora, stand down.”

            She made a low noise. “I am not a princess,” she spat.

            “Pretty sure you are,” the mage drawled. “Coming from Ostwick with your noble family and all. We must all look like peasants to you and your pretty Knight-Captain.”

            “What’s your name?” Cullen snapped.

            “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to my mage like that, Rutherford.”

            An icy finger of dread crept down Cullen’s spine at the voice and he looked to see the Templar coming from behind the mage. “Samson,” he said tightly. “Can you explain this situation?”

            “I’m pretty sure Keaton already did. He asked her a question and she reacted with force.”

            This felt like a set up and Cullen didn’t like it. “We’re leaving,” he told Elora over his shoulder.

            She made a low noise and he knew she was still ready to attack.

            “I haven’t said we were finished with our meeting, Knight-Captain,” Meredith said from behind him. “If your mage is truly a Knight-Enchanter of some talent, she should be well aware of the rules of any mage facility and know that reacting with magical force is a punishable offence outside of training.”

            Maker’s breath, what was going on?! “Elora, stand down,” Cullen repeated tensely, needing her to calm down before they could get anywhere.

            He heard her breathing hard for a moment before her mana slowly drained, her magic dissipating. “I want to go,” she said softly.

            “You’re free to leave,” Meredith told her. “But Rutherford is staying until our meeting is finished.”

            As far as he was concerned, they’d already finished speaking about everything important. Was she trying to get him back into the office to leave Elora alone with a hostile mage, his Templar, and another pair of Templars that didn’t seem to care what happened to her? “Ser, permission to reschedule.”

            “Denied. I’m not catering to some mage from an Academy who flaunts the rules and neither should you, Rutherford.”

            He thought he felt a small surge of mana behind him but it was there and gone too fast. “Knight-Commander-”

            “No, Cullen.”

            “Don’t forget who your real boss is, Rutherford,” Samson told him snidely. “Or have you forgotten who that is with all the bitches you’ve been following lately?”

            Cullen’s eyes narrowed at Samson while Keaton snickered. He also didn’t miss the way Meredith didn’t slap Samson down for the comment. He needed to get them both out of here. Now. “Elora is my mage and under my personal protection,” he said flatly. “I’m not leaving her in a situation that is clearly stacked against her.”

            Keaton sneered at him. “Think your mage can’t hold her own?”

            “I know she can and we’d be wiping what was left of you off the walls for weeks if I let her at you,” he said sharply. “But letting her do that will only get her into trouble, which you are clearly wanting. If she’s free to leave, I’m escorting her out and will return to finish our meeting when I know that she is safely outside of the Gallows.”

            “Are you inferring that the Gallows isn’t a safe place for mages, Rutherford?” Samson asked, taking a small step forward to put himself even with Keaton.

            He knew it wasn’t. The brand was wielded far too often for it to be safe and he wasn’t risking Elora’s safety any further. And the subtle positioning wasn’t lost on him. Samson had just moved into an attack formation. “We’re going,” he told Elora, turning to face her.

            She didn’t move, barely looked at him. She was completely focused on Samson and Keaton, her body held tensely. Elora was still ready to attack even if her mana wasn’t gathered. Or was it and she was masking the effect of it? This seemed like an overreaction to a name so he wondered what was still setting her off, Keaton or Samson.

            “Leaving already? Going against your Knight-Commander’s orders?”

            “Go fuck yourself, Samson,” Cullen muttered, reaching out to take Elora’s arm. They were done here.

Before he could get a hold of her, there was a surge of mana and she moved forward. There were sudden shouts of alarm and he heard someone scrambling backwards while curses flowed at a steady stream behind him.

            His head whipped around and his eyes widened when he saw what had caused the commotion. Keaton had stumbled back into the wall after tumbling over the chairs still lining it, his own eyes round as he stared at Elora. Samson’s face was tight with rage as he stood frozen beyond the curses spilling out of him, much closer than he had been when Cullen had turned to walk away. But Elora…Elora was standing between the other man and Cullen, a vicious sword in her hand and levelled at the base of Samson’s neck. “Elora,” he whispered.

            “Anyone who comes at a man that fast when his back is turned is a threat,” she said in a clipped voice. “As mage partner to Knight-Captain Rutherford, it is my sworn duty to ensure that he remains unharmed while we are together.”

            “It doesn’t apply to other Templars,” Samson spat at her.

            “It applies to all threats, human and non,” she continued. “Any perceived violence will be addressed and dealt with in accordance to the severity of that threat.”

            Andraste preserve him, she was quoting Templar regulations at Samson and in doing so ripping out the floor from under any punishment Meredith would want to give.

            “It is a mage’s duty to keep their Templar from harm, no matter what form it comes in,” she finished. “Using whatever means necessary, barring blood magic and summoning demons.”

            “Summoning a demon sword isn’t accepted!”

            “Knight-Enchanters are trained and sanctioned to wield blades called Fade swords, not demon swords, to deal with enemies in close quarters. We are trained to use them both magically and as the medieval weapon they are.” Elora paused for a moment. “I was top of my class for a reason, Ser, and not all of it was my skill with fire.”

            Cullen swallowed hard. Most Templars didn’t know much about Knight-Enchanters because so few mages got permission to pursue the specialization. He’d certainly never seen one in Kinlock Hold or here in the Gallows. The only reason he knew those swords even existed was because he had done his own research on the specialization after doing that first run with Elora. But he hadn’t realised that she could call one, hadn’t realised that she had actually been trained in combat with a bloody sword.

            But this situation had gone from bad to worse and he needed to diffuse it before Meredith decided to throw regulations out the window. Stepping closer to Elora, he reached around her to close his hand over hers. He wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that she wasn’t shaking at all as she held the sword to Samson’s throat. “Trevelyan,” he said firmly, “we’re leaving.”

            She didn’t budge, her gaze never wavering from Samson. She was ready to kill him if he made one wrong move and he couldn’t let that happen.

            “Elora,” he said quietly, shifting closer so only she would hear. “Lower the sword so we can leave.”

            He finally felt a tremble run through her but it was a long moment before she moved. She didn’t lower the sword, however, it simply vanished as soon as her fingers uncurled from around the hilt. She half turned to him but she still kept Samson in her sights. “After you, Knight-Captain.”

            Bloody Void. He wasn’t sure he wanted to give Samson his back or let Elora be between the pair of them but he wasn’t going to undermine her in front of the others. He looked at Samson and saw the other man was seething as he glared at Elora. He needed to talk to Cassandra about this, as soon as possible. But Elora’s safety came first so he turned and started down the hallway. He paused for a moment to look at Meredith. “I’ll return shortly, Knight-Commander.”

            “Don’t bother,” she dismissed. “I’ve seen enough.”

            He didn’t like the sound of that and knew he needed to report this to Knight-Commander Tomas before word reached him with a skewed account of what had just happened. For now, he kept walking to the elevator. He felt Elora’s mana following him before she was standing beside him, turned so she could look down the hallway as they reached the elevator. She didn’t say anything, just kept quiet watch on his back.

            When the elevator doors opened, he grabbed her arm and hauled her inside. He was thankful it was empty but he still waited for the doors to be closed before raking his hands through his hair. He looked at her, wanting to say something but words failed him.

Moving to the other side of the compartment, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at her. She wasn’t looking at him, gaze firmly locked on the changing numbers but her hands were fisted in her purse and shirt again. He also noticed she was breathing slightly hard, her adrenaline clearly up. She needed to calm down before he started asking questions and so did he. Neither of them needed a fight right now.

They’d gone down five floors before he heard a long sigh leave her. “What was that?” he demanded quietly.

            She looked at him coolly. “I was doing my job, Captain.”

            “In attacking another Templar? In the Gallows? With the Knight-Commander standing right there?” His heart was pounding in his chest as he said the words. That could have gone a million ways and he could barely think of any that would have been good. He wasn’t even sure what had happened had been a good ending to the confrontation.

            “Not the most appropriate place for it, I’ll admit,” she conceded, “but it had to be done.”

            “Had to be? Why?”

            “Are things different in the Gallows or is there not a pecking order to both mages and Templars?” she asked. “I have never and will never be pushed around by what is essentially a bully. I worked my ass off to get where I am. My name got me nothing but snide looks and bitter remarks in the Academy. I had few friends because I was a noble born. I was not and have never been a princess and I take personal offense to the fact that anyone thinks my family had anything to do with where I am now.”

            “And Samson?”

            Her eyes darkened, fear and panic surging to life before she looked away. “He’s bad news, Captain,” she whispered. “Really bad news.”

            “Something set you off, what was it?” he asked, needing to know. “Him coming at me wouldn’t have been tolerated, no matter how much I seem to have fallen out of Knight-Commander Meredith’s favour.”       

            She licked her lips before sighing. “Lyrium addict,” she muttered. “All the signs are there and are being ignored. He’s unstable, doesn’t think things through and shouldn’t be in active duty.”

            “How do you know he’s a lyrium addict?” Shit, if he was that would explain so much of his current behaviour. But if Elora could see it surely others could too and that meant she was right about it being ignored. Why?

            Elora went quiet for a long moment and he saw her expression go pensive. “I’ve studied lyrium for a long time,” she said slowly. “I know what the signs are when someone’s taking too much, too little, or when it’s all that they want. The lyrium Templars take isn’t the same as what we mages consume since you don’t actively have something using it no matter what you’re doing. It pools in your system, soaks into your bones, your muscles, your skin, and it gives off a scent. Depending on how much lyrium a Templar is taking, the musk they produce changes accordingly. All mages are aware of it, but I’m not sure many can really tell any difference between the smells.”

            “Wait, smells?” Cullen echoed, staring at her. “Are you saying that you knew he was an addict because of the way he smells?”

            She shrugged faintly. “It was rather potent before he even got close to me. If I hadn’t seen him, I might not have put it together but too many signs were there.”

            He was probably still staring at her. Templars smelt to mages? Mages could actually smell the lyrium in them? Was it only mages or could regular people smell it as well? He felt a bit of heat creep up the back of his neck and reached up to rub it before quickly dropping his arm. “So…do I smell?”

            Elora looked at him brows drawing together for a moment. “Do you…? Oh! Oh shit, no! No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, I never said it was a bad smell like body odor or garbage or halitosis or feet. It’s…it’s just a musk? You know? Like a natural cologne!”

            She was clearly scrambling to get him to understand what she meant and he suddenly felt bad. He hadn’t meant to insinuate that she thought he smelt bad, but really there was no other way for that question to be asked.

            “Some mages like it,” she continued, starting to babble. “It can be a really good smell depending on the Templar and how much lyrium they’re taking. It can also act as an aphrodi…er, well, it’s not bad. Really, it’s not.”

            Cullen had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as she stared at him in panic. He nodded slowly, unable to help the smile. It was mean to think she was cute when she was flustered like this, but she really was. And after what had just happened, seeing her like this was a relief. “Okay, sure. You’re the lyrium expert after all.”

            “Oh, Maker,” she whispered. “I should really just shut up, shouldn’t I? Stop and take my foot out of my mouth.”

            “Well, you’re not the one that has to worry about the garbage-foot smell of lyrium breath, right?”

            She tried to glare at him but she was still too flustered so it only wound up making him snort. Her gaze jerked to the floor and she glared at it for a long moment. It made him want to laugh more. When she looked up, she shuffled over to where he was and gave him a small nudge. “I’m sorry. You don’t smell. Not like that.”

            Meaning he did have a scent. “It’s alright,” he assured her. “You can buy me lunch.”

            “Alright.”

            Cullen jerked. “No! No, I was only teasing!”

            “Well, I’m serious. I can buy you lunch.”

            “No,” he said firmly. “You came here because of me and it’ll be my apology for what just happened.”

            “That wasn’t your fault, Captain.”

            “Elora.”

            “Not your fault. I could have said no, could have stayed on the ferry, could have done a lot of things. But I made the decision to come with you and decided to do everything after that as well. You can’t control how the Templars act here, especially toward me, Captain. I appreciate the effort, but I’d rather we just get out of here in one piece.”

            “Are you ever going to accept an apology from me?” he asked dryly.

            She gave him a sunny smile. “Maybe if you apologize for something that actually warranted the apology,” she said quietly. “So far that hasn’t happened.”

            He gave her a look which she returned with that smile before he rolled his eyes. “You’re not buying lunch,” he told her. “I already owed you a coffee so I’ll just up it to that.”

            “Uh huh, sure, Captain.”

            He just stared at her as the doors opened and more Templars came in. She wasn’t paying for lunch, even if he had to pick her up to keep her away from the machines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter! With characters I barely remember and shouldn't be writing about because I've only played Dragon Age 2 once. Great decision on my part. The writing bit, not the game part. 
> 
> Tiny aside, Guenevere Amell belongs to Luci (magisteramell on tumblr and buckybarrow on here) and no she is not the Hero of Ferelden. She helps me dream up and plot out all of my silly ideas for stories and as such both of our characters play integral parts in all of the stories. And I don't know if I've mentioned it or not so why not do it here, Elora's cousin, who has yet to make an appearance, is also Luci's OC.


	7. The Mire

            Pushing her lips out in a horrible impression of a duck, Elora stared at the sodden landscape around her. It hadn’t stopped raining since they had gotten to the Fallow Mire five days ago. Her rain slicker was completely soaked and she wasn’t sure it was even keeping her dry anymore. Tapping her feet together, she looked down at the rain boots on them. She had soaked her combat boots the first day they had gotten here, stepping on what she’d thought was solid ground that had immediately given way to bog. It had also resulted in an interesting session of tug of war between her, Cullen, and the mud. He had gotten her out easily enough but the boot had stayed put in the mud.

            She was positive Cassandra hadn’t helped them because she was laughing and trying to hide it. But she could only imagine the sight they had been. Her balancing on one foot because she was not putting her sock down in the wet grass and Cullen pulling her boot out of the muck. He had eventually gotten it but it had been completely caked in mud, the inside splattered with dirt and water.

            He had looked between her and the boot before sighing. She had immediately known what he was going to do and tried to stop him but she hadn’t been able to. Once again she had gotten a shoulder in her gut and a wonderful case of vertigo as he had picked her up and carried her back to camp. The view had been alright once her head wasn’t spinning, Cullen’s ass front and centre in her field of vision. And then it had been easy enough to blame her flushed cheeks on being upside down and not the fact that she’d been staring at his ass.

            The rest of the camp had thought it was amusing seeing him haul her in, muddy boot dangling from his hand while she dangled from his shoulder. Yet another first impression she would never live down. Dignity wasn’t something she was ever going to maintain it would seem so she had just rolled with it and accepted the rubber boots that had been offered to her.

            “This is honestly ridiculous.”

            She shifted on her rock to look over at where Cullen and Cassandra were standing. They weren’t that far away, both of them in rain slickers as well. Cullen’s was pulled tight across his frame as he crouched down, his back to her. She bit her lower lip as she let her gaze travel down his body before she jerked it away. Nope. She had entertained more than enough thoughts about that ass after her close encounter with it. She knew it had to be tight and muscular like the rest of him, had wondered what it would look like in the standard issue boxer briefs that went with the fatigues or if he wore something else. Which of course had led her to thinking about what it would look like without anything, bare…clenching and flexing as he thrust….

            Pursing her lips, Elora felt heat creeping into her cheeks as she squirmed on the rock. Okay, not helping herself. Yes, Cullen was attractive. Yes, she was attracted to him. Yes, having lunch with him and getting to know him better in Kirkwall had only fuelled that attraction. But she was an adult and a professional and she needed to focus on the job. Not the Knight-Captain’s ass.

            Because she’d already had to excuse herself early a few nights, claiming she needed the relative dryness of her tent to read or write in her journal when that was decidedly not what she was doing. Sharing a tent with Cassandra made it dicey to do anything beyond sleep and read in the tent, but so far she had managed to sneak in a few moments to relieve the tension coiled in her belly that seemed to be a natural occurrence around him now. Of course, they weren’t overly satisfying, having to bury her face in her pillow and biting down on the thin fabric to keep any noise she made muffled while her fingers worked to bring her to climax as fast as she could.

            The Seeker was bloody silent on her feet and seemed to just appear at the tent flap without warning. If Elora didn’t want to walk around a mass of aroused nerves or get caught with her hand in her pants, she needed to be quick about it. And she was sadly getting very good at being quick about it.

            “It’s the mission we’ve been given,” Cassandra said dryly, pulling Elora back into the present and their conversation.

            “It’s not a mission,” he grumbled. “It’s a damn punishment and we all know it.”

            Because of what had happened in the Gallows. The orders had come in the next day; they were being shipped out to the Fallow Mire the following day. She had wanted to scream because she’d bought enough groceries for a few days and now they were all going to go bad when Cullen had called her to tell her the news. She had sworn up a blue storm as soon as she had hung up because this was insane. First the Hissing Wastes and now the Fallow Mire? They were both the ass ends of Orlais and Ferelden and she had never wanted to go to either. The only benefit to the Mire was that she wasn’t going to get sunburnt again.

            Granted she was likely to turn into a toad if the rain kept up.

            “The orders came in before you went to the Gallows, Cullen.”

            “I don’t believe it. Meredith wasn’t impressed when we walked out of the Institute. She doesn’t like Elora for whatever reason. Although it could be nothing more than her being a mage, but she doesn’t like her at all.”

            “But I’m so lovable and adorable,” Elora muttered under her breath. “What could have made her not like me? Standing up for myself against a lyrium addict and a forceful fa-”

            “Did you say something, Elora?”

            “Nope,” she called back, wrinkling her nose. Shit. Maybe she was talking too loudly. She glanced at the other pair when their conversation didn’t continue, but neither of them was looking at her. Their gazes were out on the workers that were slowly repairing one of the walkways over the bog. Which was their mission: protect the workers from any Avvar in the area as they dig ditches to ensure the water didn’t flood. Absolutely riveting. The only thing that had jumped out at them had been the biggest frog she had ever seen and yes, it had made her scream because she’d been startled but so far, nothing to warrant them even being here.

            “I hate being here,” Cullen said flatly.

            Elora felt bad because she was positive this was entirely her fault for what had happened at the Gallows. “Look on the bright side, Captain,” she called. “It’s a new country? Aren’t you excited to be out of Kirkwall? I mean, the rain isn’t really that great but I’m sure there’s plenty to see in Ferelden if we get the chance?”

            “He is Ferelden,” Cassandra said automatically.

            Blinking, Elora stared at Cullen. “You are?” she said curiously.      

            He glanced at her over his shoulder without saying anything.

            Her lips parted in surprise before she was jumping off the rock to hurry over to where they were. “I thought there was something strange about your accent,” she said excitedly. “I chalked it up to part of the Kirkwall mash that seems to go on but now that I know I can hear it. It’s totally and completely Ferelden. When you said you were here during the Blight, I didn’t realise you meant you were actually from here!”

            Cullen looked up at her from under the brim of his slicker, his expression anything but impressed. “It’s not strange,” he said petulantly.

            Elora stared at him, horrified as she realised what she’d said. “No! I didn’t mean it like that! It was just different and I couldn’t place it!” she squeaked.

            “It is rather flat and drawling,” Cassandra remarked idly.

            “Thank you for your input, Seeker,” Cullen said flatly. “I appreciate the criticism to my speech patterns and accept it on behalf of my entire country.”

            Elora made a tiny noise and fidgeted with the buttons on her coat, trying to look anywhere but at the pair of them. Maker, she had stepped in it again. What was it about him that made her stop thinking whenever she opened her mouth?

            “It wasn’t a criticism. I was simply stating what your accent sounded like.”

            “How is flat and drawling not insulting?”

            “It’s more of an honest accent,” Elora mused. “Antivan is just sneaky, Nevarran is a little more refined but definitely stuck up, haven’t heard anyone from Rivain so I can’t make the call, and Free Marchers can’t decide what we want to sound like because we’re not actually a country. Fereldens are honest and it’s in their accent.”

            Cullen was staring up at her, his expression about as sullen as she had ever seen it. “So I’m flat, drawling, and honest?”

            “At least it’s not Orlesian?” Elora volunteered.

            Both of them were looking at her now like she’d grown a second head and she briefly considered throwing herself into the bog.

            “Right, shutting up,” she muttered, shoving her hands in her pockets and staring out at the workers.

            She wasn’t sure what to think when neither of them started talking again either. Fantastic. Here begins the awkward silence that she had started. Just what she needed.

            Rocking slowly on her feet, Elora chewed on her bottom lip as her eyes danced over the area. They hadn’t moved very far into the Mire despite being here for nearly a week. The work was slow going since the crew had to make sure that they stayed out of the water. Apparently, the first set of workers sent here had made the mistake of wading into the waters to repair the docks and walkways and learned that there was a curse or spell or something on the water that summoned the undead when it was disturbed.

            The Chantry scouts that had been waiting for them when they’d arrived had hesitantly asked if they were afraid of the undead before giving the news about the water. Cassandra had been disgusted, Cullen hadn’t seemed impressed, and she’d…been intrigued because how did you curse an entire bog and sustain it? No one had really had answers and she hadn’t been willing to wade into the water to test any theories she might have come up with.

            She wasn’t sure Cullen would ever forgive her if she tried a stunt like that. But she hadn’t been able to resist running small tests to see what exactly could disturb the water without summoning them. So far inanimate objects and animals were a no go.

            A snort left her as she remembered the poor frog she had spent twenty minutes chasing before tossing into the water. An irrational part of her had wanted to yell ‘For science’ as she had done it and she was ridiculously glad that she hadn’t. The workers all probably thought she was insane anyways since she kept wandering around talking to herself and the things she was finding in the Mire, no need to deliberately add to it.

            “Something funny, Elora?”

            “Nope,” she said automatically, trying to school her impression. It was hard when she kept remembering how the poor frog had spread its legs as it had flown through the air and she snorted again before trying to pass it off as a cough.

            “Not sure I believe you.”

            “That’s nice.” 

            He made a noise and pushed himself upright.

            She didn’t bother looking at him as she heard him shake out his raincoat before she made a curious noise when she felt him lean in closer.

            “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that frog you threw the other day would it?”

            She froze, her muscles locking up. No. No way he knew about that. He hadn’t been anywhere near her when she had done that. No one had been near her when she had done that! She’d made sure of it because it was absolutely ridiculous to be chasing a frog for any amount of time. Let alone the twenty minutes she had done it!

            His chuckle was far too low and far too close to her. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. You’re not very good at catching frogs, you know. You need a better technique.”

            Turning slightly, she wanted to swear when she saw he was right beside her, golden eyes dancing under the damp curls brushing his forehead. “I didn’t realise there was a technique to catching frogs or that you were aware of one,” she muttered. “Should I get you to do it next time?”

            “Next time what? That you want to throw things in the water to see how far you can push the spell?”

            “Are you spying on me or something?” she demanded. How in the Void did he know any of that?

            “You’re my mage,” he said simply. “It’s my job to keep an eye on you.”

            “Your job is to keep an eye on the workers, not me,” she said tartly. “Unless you want to go catch me a bigger frog to throw.”

            “The frogs never did anything to you, Elora. Leave them alone.”

            “Should I try throwing you into the lake instead?” she asked sweetly.

            His mouth twitched. “I’d almost let you do it if I thought you could even remotely pick me up. Without using magic,” he added when she opened her mouth quickly.

            She gave him a disgusted look before turning back to the water. He was still too close. Despite the rain, she could feel the heat he was kicking out as his body attempted to absorb and burn through the lyrium it was never meant to take. Which meant he was too close to her.

            “Why do you even want to know the limits of the spell?” he asked, shifting slightly away from her.

            “Why wouldn’t I? It’s a sustained spell without any mage around to sustain it. I’ve never really heard of that happening outside of cursed ruins and the like. Unless there’s specific objects that are making it happen? Like maybe an object is cursed and that’s what’s pulling the spirits through the Fade? But how does disturbing the water factor into it? And why does it only seem to be people that cause the effect?”

            “Don’t make me order you not to go into the water.”

            “I’m wet enough as it is, Captain,” she said dryly. “I’m not going to add to it by jumping in the bog.”

            He muttered something she didn’t catch before sighing. “Either way, it’s not right,” he said. “Spirits aren’t supposed to be on this side of the Veil.”

            Elora just shrugged in response to that. Necromancy was a huge field of study in magic. It definitely wasn’t her thing and she was sure her cousin was eternally grateful for that. He was not a fan of the undead at all and she had felt bad leaving him a message talking about the water. But she hadn’t had anything else to talk about really so she had talked about the missions. And wished that she had been talking to him and not his voice mail.

            She had taken to leaving him a message every day now. It was kind of a sad thing to do because he hadn’t picked up once but it made her feel a little bit better to at least hear his voice saying the leave a message spiel. She tried not to think about how he hadn’t responded to her at all, tried not to think the worst about what could have happened. It was getting harder not to as the days went by.

            “Elora? Everything alright?”

            She looked at Cullen curiously.

            “You sighed,” he explained.

            “Oh. I was just thinking about my cousin. He’s been gone for over a month now and I haven’t heard anything from him.”

            “You said he works with a peace-corps group?”

            “Yeah, out of Starkhaven. He’s friends with the youngest Vael,” she said absently. “Although, I thought I heard Sebastian has been running around Kirkwall lately and him and Yoney were best friends for years. I suppose he could have left Yoney in charge of the group but I don’t know. It’s been nearly six weeks and…nothing.”

            His hand settled on her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure he’s fine. If he’s anything like you, he’s a survivor.”

            Her heart did cartwheels in her chest as she thought about just how much Ionas had already survived. “Yeah,” she pushed out.

            “If he’s on a mission, it’s easy to get lost in it,” he continued. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon enough.”

            “I hope so,” she whispered. She didn’t realise how much she missed her cousin until she heard his voice. Then her breath caught in her throat and tears started to sting her eyes. She really missed him.

            “Want to talk about something else?” Cullen asked softly.

            “Not really much to talk about out here beyond frogs and undead,” she said weakly.

            “Then what have you been writing in your journal every night?”

            Oh. Fuck. Oh fuck! “Stuff.” Oh, fucking brilliant, Trevelyan!

            “How enlightening. Care to elaborate?”

            No, no she did not. She did have journal entries regarding the plants she’d found at the water’s edge and the statues at the entrance of the Mire, but not enough for the times she had retreated to her tent. “Uh….”

            “Are you really not going to tell me? Is it some kind of secret like whatever my sisters would write in their journals when we were kids?”

            He had sisters? No, not what she needed to think about right now. “It’s not, I mean-”

            “Report for you, ser!”

            Oh, thank the fucking Maker! Elora watched Cullen turn from her to face the scout hurrying up to them. She looked around and saw that Cassandra had moved off a little bit while they’d been talking, but she was coming back now that the scout was here.

            “What do you mean people have gone missing?” Cullen demanded. “When and where?”

            Elora snapped to attention, listening to the conversation now.

            “We’re not entirely sure, Ser. They were sent to scout the next location for the walkways and they haven’t checked in. We went to the meeting place but there wasn’t any sign of them there.”

            “Avvar?”

            “Not that we can tell. They usually leave a bit of a mess after a fight and there were no signs of a struggle. It’s like they just disappeared.”

            “Did they go into the water?” Elora asked, her stomach sinking at the thought. No matter how much she had wanted to test the undead summoning, she hadn’t actually wanted it to happen to people.

            “We don’t know,” the scout said, his voice frustrated. “There’s no signs to follow, no clues as to where they went or what happened.”

            Cullen made a noise and looked at Cassandra. “You tired of standing around.”

            Her brows rose. “All three of us?” she asked mildly.

            “We’re a team,” he said. “There’s enough regular militia here to keep the workers safe but as a precaution, pull them back to camp for the day.” The last bit was directed at the scout.

            “Yes, Ser.”

            He looked up, squinting against the rain before looking down at his watch. “Two,” he muttered. “Give us five hours. Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan will mark a trail for you to follow if we aren’t back by then. One search party, two scouts, four soldiers. The rest stays here and locks down the camp. Understood?”

            “Yes, Ser!” The scout started to leave before pausing. “Good luck, Ser.”

            Cullen nodded before looking at the pair of them. “If you need anything, I suggest you get it now.”

            For a five hour hike through a bog? There was no need for a pack with camping supplies and tools in it. She had a pouch on her hip filled with lyrium and healing potions for herself and anyone they came across. Her mitts went on her hands as soon as she left the tent in the morning and the only thing she could have wanted was her combat boots. She was fairly certain the rain boots she had on were actually going to be better suited to traipsing through the Mire so she didn’t even think about going back for them. “I’m good.”

            Elora heard the clicking of Cassandra’s gun being readied. “Lead the way, Cullen.”

            He nodded again before turning on his heel. He didn’t look back as he led them around the edge of the water toward one of the rock formations lining the Mire, trusting them to follow.

            Elora was hot on his trail and knew Cassandra wasn’t too far behind her. They didn’t talk as they went, the idle chatter of before lost because of the task ahead of them. It also didn’t help that the constant rain was good cover for the shambling footsteps of corpses as they came upon you so talking wasn’t advised.

            Putting out her hand, she let her fingers trail along the rocks, infusing magic into it once they could no longer see where the workers had been. It was a faint light that would fade in a day or so and took little effort to make. The scouts were more than capable of finding and following it. It would get a little trickier to do once they were no longer along the wall but she was sure that she could find other things to put it on.

            “Elora.”

            She stopped and looked back at Cassandra before her gaze followed where the Seeker’s was. There was a corpse wandering aimlessly in the water. She didn’t know how far the undead could see but she knew it hadn’t spotted them. The question now was did they leave it or take it out, risking the chance of going in the water and summoning more. “I could probably hit it,” she said, squinting at it. “Fire would take it down but…I’m not sure if it’s completely in range. I could just wind up getting its attention instead.”

            She made a noise, lifting her gun and looking down the scope. “Shot to the head isn’t enough with them,” she muttered. “The demons possessing them don’t let go that easily. But it would draw it closer and within your range.”

            Elora chewed on her lip, glancing at Cullen. He had stopped to look at the undead as well before he looked at her. “Your call, Elora,” he said. “The fire is what’s going to properly take it down.”

            She rubbed her fingers together in slow circles, feeling her mitts heat up slightly. “Do it,” she said, pulling her mana together.

            Cassandra didn’t say anything and Elora didn’t look at her. She was lining up the shot and-The crack of the gun rang through the relative silence of the Mire almost as loud as the lightning strikes and the corpse stumbled forward.

            “Don’t panic it,” Cullen muttered.

            “I know what I’m doing,” she returned, watching as it started toward them through the water.

            “Elora, panicking it-”

            “Can draw the attention of others. I know,” she cut in, feeling her gloves heat on her hands further.

            He made a noise but he stayed quiet as she lifted her hand.

            She would admit she had thought about Flashfire, it was quick, it was easy, and could get the job done. But the panic was an issue. So something different. She let the corpse shamble a bit further forward, heard Cassandra shift next to her and load the next shot, before she made a quick motion.

            Her mana ripped out of her, the pyrophite singing as the magic coursed through it, and the next step the corpse took had flames surging out of the water to consume it. It took a few more steps even as the fire licked at the rags it was wearing before biting into the flesh.

            Elora watched as it sank to its knees before toppling forward into the water without a sound. That…was disturbing. She had never fought the undead before and the eerie silence was just that. Eerie. Usually there was noise and cries and screams. While she didn’t overly like any of them, the silence just wasn’t right.

            Her hand dropped back down to her side and she let out a breath as she let her mana relax. Nothing else had come in response to the shot or the spell so they were in the clear.

            “You good?”

            “Beyond the fact that that was creepy and I’m not really looking forward to repeating the experience? Yeah, I’m good,” she said quietly.

            “No one likes fighting the undead, Elora,” Cullen said as he started forward again. “They’re unnatural.” 

            She stared at the smoking corpse for a moment longer before shuddering and following after him. “Yoney’s terrified of them,” she said absently. “Absolutely terrified. Won’t take jobs in Nevarra because of them since they’re everywhere. Because apparently that’s a serious thing there? But why would anyone even do that? Uh, sorry, Seeker.”

            “Don’t be,” she dismissed. “They are everywhere. The moans from the Grand Necropolis can be heard all through the night. It is not something I miss.”

            Elora made a face. “When can we go home?” she muttered.

            Cullen put his hand on a broken wall and levered himself over it. “When the walkways are completed.”

            “Yeah, okay, that means we’re going to be here forever,” she said blandly, eyeing the wall and searching for a lower part for her to get over. She gave Cullen a look when he held out his hands to her. “I can’t make that.”

            He returned her look. “The stones are loose on the bottom, there are foot holes to get you higher and I’ll help.”

            “While what? Cassandra plants her hands on my ass to push me over?” Elora asked tartly.

            The words had barely left her before Cullen’s brows snapped up and she heard Cassandra snort from behind her.

            “Ah, I mean, that’s not. Shit,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks heat.

            A smile was curling Cullen’s mouth as he continued to hold out his hands to her. “Was wondering how long it was going to take you to loosen up a bit more,” he said blandly. “Although I’m not sure Cassandra is going to want to push you over nor would you want her to do that.”

            “No, no, I didn’t mean, it just came out!”

            “Meaning you’re more comfortable with both of us,” Cassandra said. “Which is good. Now get over the wall.”

            “There has got to be a lower part somewhere,” Elora said, feeling like an idiot and considering throwing herself into the bog. No, that would bring undead. “I can just-” She squawked when Cullen leaned over the wall and fisted a hand in her rain slicker to pull her forward.

            “Feet in the holes, Elora,” he told her when her gaze jerked to him.

            “Let go,” she said tightly.

            “We’ve only got so long to do this before that rescue party is going to start looking for us.”

            “We just left!”

            “And we’re losing time. Feet. Holes.”

            She glared at him before scrabbling to find them when his grip moved to slide under her arms. “Wait, wait, wait!” she said quickly, feeling him tense to simply haul her over the wall. But his hands didn’t drop and even when she found a few loose and jagged rocks to stand on, she wasn’t really helping. She had barely gotten her knee on the top of the stone wall before one arm slid around her waist and lifted her over. “Cullen, no!”

            He completely ignored her, one arm around her waist and the other banded over her thighs when her legs flailed.

            Elora quickly latched onto his shoulders, staring at him with wide eyes. The way he was holding her, she was slightly above his eye level and he could surely hear or feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest as he kept her close to him. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show as he took a step away from the wall to give Cassandra room to get over it and set her down on her feet. “Thanks?” she said weakly. “That was completely uncalled for though. I was getting there!”

            “It was faster,” he said, pulling the hood of her coat down lower over her face.

            She batted his hands away. “I might be smaller than you but you can’t just man handle me like that,” she told him. “I’m not some kind of doll you can just pick up whenever you want.”

            “I’m well aware of that.”

            She wasn’t so sure he was. It wasn’t the first time he had picked her up without provocation and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. Giving herself a shake, she shot him another look which melted off her face when he happened to turn around as soon as she gave it. “What?” she said when his expression dropped.

            “Really? Were you going to stick your tongue out at me as well?”

            “That is ridiculously childish.”

            “So is the face you just made.”

            “So is just picking people up!”

            “Ugh,” Cassandra said, striding past them. “We’re going to be here all day if you keep that up. There are people missing, in case the two of you had forgotten?”

            Elora made a face before following Cassandra as she took the lead. She thought she heard Cullen mutter something behind her but she ignored it and kept going. The Seeker set a gruelling pace most of the time which could be hard to keep up with if you weren’t paying attention. And her rain boots were definitely not made to be walking fast in so she needed to pay attention. Not thinking about being pressed the length of the Knight-Captain.

            She blew out a breath and gave her head a little shake. Now was not the time, Elora. After the people were found and they were back in camp, she could indulge in whatever little fantasy she wanted. Right now she needed to-“What’s that?” she asked, stopping to point at a stone slab jutting out of the bog.

            “The scouts said there’s a few of them scattered around the Mire,” Cullen said, coming up beside her. “They were using them as markers and meeting places since they’re easier to see.”

            “Is that the one the missing group was supposed to meet at?”

            “That’s the one we’ve been trying to build to,” he sighed. “They were scouting between the next two.”

            Elora made a put out noise before starting toward Cassandra. She stopped abruptly when she felt something icy trail down her spine. She gasped when Cullen bumped into her, flailing slightly as she lost her balance. Regaining it with the help of the hand that had fisted in the back of her coat, she blew out a breath. “Maker’s balls,” she muttered, straightening. “Thanks.”

            “Why’d you stop?” he asked lowly.

            “Something’s watching us,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what, spirit maybe? Something that hasn’t latched onto one of the corpses yet? No, it doesn’t feel like that.”

            “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” he asked, keeping his hand on her back and giving her a small push to keep moving.

            Cassandra was already walking but at a much slower pace. Elora didn’t know if it was because she could sense the watcher as well or if she was reacting to them. “Not really,” she muttered after a minute. “It’s just watching us.”

            Cullen grunted softly. “Let me know if it changes,” he said before giving her another push to get her ahead of him.

            Elora glanced back at the stone slab, wondering if it had anything to do with what she was feeling. But it was just stone right? Or was it tied to the spell on the water? Maybe the markers were where the caster had embedded the spells because if they were spread out over the whole of the Fallow Mire than it would make more sense.

            “Do you want to check it out?”

            “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “If we’re just going to another one, I can look there and see if I get the same feeling.”

            “But you’re still staring at it.”

            She made a helpless gesture. She didn’t know how to explain how she was feeling. Her stomach was roiling, sweat trickling down her back despite the chill in the air, and her skin erupting in goosebumps. Whatever was watching them was not friendly, that much she was sure of.

            “Elora?”

            Shaking her head, she hurried after Cassandra. This wasn’t what she wanted, a creepy bog full of the undead and now something malicious watching her from the shadows? “Don’t ever invite me to the Gallows again,” she muttered over her shoulder.

            Cullen huffed out a low laugh. “Trust me, I’m never taking you there again,” he agreed.

            She was all for that. If she never saw Knight-Commander Meredith again, it would be too soon. She had heard of her, but after pseudo meeting her…Elora never wanted it to happen again. Because she knew it wouldn’t go any better than the first time.

            Elora tried to push that thought aside. She needed to focus. That feeling wasn’t going away, following them as they moved deeper into the Mire. There were remnants of walkways that they used to cut across the water, balancing precariously on the wood while trying so hard not to fall in. Every time they came to something that was even remotely visible, she marked it with magic, praying that they were close enough together that the scouts would be able to find them.

            “Elora, look.”

            She glanced at Cullen as he came up beside her before following where his finger was pointing. Another stone slab jutting above the water. This one had a wooden platform surrounding it and a ramp leading from the swampy ground up to it. “I really don’t like this,” she whispered.

            “It’s still there.”

            Elora nodded. “Captain, I’m not so sure looking at that is going to help.”

            “We don’t have much choice, Elora. This is where they were supposed to be.”

            Pulling her lower lip into her mouth, she chewed on it as they walked up the ramp. Cassandra was already circling the rock spire, her brows drawn together as she came around it. “Is there anything here?”

            Dark eyes slid to her for a moment. “There is a brazier mounted on the other side like the ones in the Hissing Wastes.”

            Elora tucked her hands into her armpits and took a step back. “I think I should maybe wait far, far away from this then.”

            “Would you really light it after the last time?” Cullen asked, frowning at the rock.

            “No,” she said quietly, “but….”

            “Something’s followed us,” Cullen told Cassandra. “It’s been here since the last rock.”

            “But you haven’t seen anything?”

            Elora shook her head. “It’s just a feeling,” she said softly, “but it won’t go away.”

            She nodded slowly. “There’s nothing here, like the scout said. There are two paths off of the platform, one leads deeper into the swamp and probably to the old fortress at the edge of it. The other leads in there.”

            “I vote not that way,” Elora muttered as she stared at the entrance that had been carved into the stone.

            Cullen sighed in irritation. “There’s nothing here to even give us any clues as to what way they went. That doesn’t happen. Maybe they didn’t even make it back here and something happened to them out in the Mire, but regardless of that, their gear should have been here. It’s gone so someone or something took it.”

            “That is not comforting at all.”

            He reached out to pat her shoulder absently before shaking his head. “We need to pick a direction and keep going. Through the rocks might be shorter because it can only go so far, unless it leads into yet another swamp.”

            Pressing her lips together, Elora stared silently at Cassandra, begging her to not pick the same way as Cullen. She did not want to go in there. She really did not want to-

            “You’re probably right,” she agreed. “The initial reports for the area said that there were several areas that were off shoots of the main swamp but they were all contained within the rock walls.”

            A whimper left Elora and she let her head drop. “Yes, let’s go in the even creepier area of the creepy swamp. Sounds brilliant.”

            Cullen chuckled slightly. “Come on, Elora. The faster we go the faster we can-”

            A pop and sizzle cut him off and Elora felt her heart sink. She had heard that noise before; when she had lit the brazier in the Hissing Wastes. Her eyes widened when a hollow scream echoed out from the spire before she stumbled as a shock wave blasted out of it. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, watching the pair of lights that shot out of the rock to careen through the air and slam into the swamp. “Demons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not having this up on Friday. I got distracted by another idea and forgot that I hadn't posted this yet!


	8. Demons and Lies

         “Oh, shit. Demons.” 

            Cullen whipped around to stare at Elora, knowing Cassandra had done the same thing. “Elora!” 

            She jerked harshly. “It wasn’t me!” she cried. 

            He’d realised that as soon as he’d said her name. Her hands were still clamped under her arms and she was staring at the stone in horror. “Barrier!” he snapped. 

            Her hands came down, the left one gesturing harshly and he felt the magic snap to life around him. “Demons! Why is it always demons?!” she muttered. 

            “Not just demons, the undead as well,” Cassandra said as she strode to the edge of the platform and took position at one of the paths off of it. 

            “I hate everything about this place!” 

            “Elora!” Cullen snapped, moving to take up position at the ramp they had come up. “Focus!”

            “What?!” she snapped back. “I am allowed to be upset about the fact that there are fucking demons and fucking undead trying to kill me!” 

            Clenching his teeth, he didn’t respond as he brought his gun up. The bullets really weren’t going to do more than slow the undead down and piss the demons off for the most part. Elora was going to have to deal with most of the undead and they would have to keep the demons off of her so she could do that. Unless they got too close, then it was up to him and the Seeker to deal with them.

            He didn’t even have time to get a shot off, barely counted the amount of corpses now shambling towards them, before there was a crack and a wall of fire erupted between them and the undead. “Don’t overdo it!” 

            “Stop telling me how to do my job!” 

            Maker’s breath, what had gotten into her?! He pushed the thought aside as he started firing, aiming low in an attempt to take out joints and slow them down further. He heard Cassandra shooting as well, short rapid bursts that were no doubt looking for weak spots. 

            He wasn’t completely sure where Elora had put herself, didn’t have time to look as the undead kept coming. The fire was slowing them down, a few already dropping from the flames, but there were far more of them that were still coming. And no sign of the demons. 

            Cursing under his breath as the wall of flames evaporated, he switched to body shots, dumping as much lead as he could into each target to drop them. He flinched slightly when flames shot past him, several bursts that ripped through the air and latched onto multiple targets. The energy burst took down a couple of them that were already on the verge of dying but they were going to need more than that to take down the bulk of them. 

            A sudden screech made the hair at the back of his neck stand on end and a sharp cry from behind him had his head jerking around. He stared for a second as he saw Elora fly backward as a Lesser Terror launched itself from the ground under her. “Elora!” 

            “I’m fine!” she yelled, pushing herself off the ground and throwing one hand out at the demon. 

            Fire erupted around it, making it scream further. 

            “Seeker, move!” Cullen shouted when it didn’t stop. He knew what was coming and he wasn’t close enough to stop it. All he could do was pray he got far enough away before- 

            A percussive blast rocked the area around the demon and Cullen stumbled forward, his ears ringing. But he’d managed to get far enough from it that that was the only damage done. Of course, that now put him much closer to the undead and he was very much alone. 

           He dropped the gun, feeling it tug on his body from the strap across his chest and swore softly. He didn’t need it swinging around him as the corpses got closer but all of the clasps were slick with the rain and he didn’t have time to deal with them. Unsheathing his machete, he swung hard at the first corpse that reached out for him, gagging slightly as half of the arm fell to the ground and the smell of rotting flesh rose up. Reversing the swing, he severed the head from its body and turned to the next as it dropped. 

            He could hear the sound of Cassandra’s gun still firing shots and he prayed Elora was with her. But there were more corpses coming for him, singling him out because he was alone so he couldn’t think about anyone but himself.

            Black blood dripped off of the machete as he hacked through the undead, mirroring the trails of sweat dripping down his body. He didn't stop moving, his focus on the enemies in front of him. Which was exactly what they wanted as he heard the sizzle in the air behind him. 

            Shit. There were too many in front of him, too many to ignore in favour of the demon that was no doubt going to knock him down so the undead could swarm him. He started to brace himself, to try to hold out against the attack but he knew it was pointl- 

_“Get down!”_  

            Cullen tensed at the scream before he threw himself forward. His roll was sloppy in his surprise and he slammed into a pair of the undead even as the Terror ripped from the ground where he’d just been. Continuing the roll over the grasping bodies, he lurched to his feet even as the lyrium in his veins sang out. 

            Time seemed to stop as he watched a fissure in the air form and then disappear in a fraction of a second before Elora was between him and the Terror. Her wicked sword was in hand and she was swinging before she had even fully come out of the Fade Step. The demon screamed as her blade bit deep and didn't stop, throwing its head back. 

            “Elora!” he shouted, starting forward to haul her back. If she got stunned, he wasn’t sure he could keep both of them safe since he had no clue where Cassandra was. He wasn’t going to let her get hurt again, he was not letting it happen again. 

            Her left hand lashed out and the sizzle in the air came back. But this time it had nothing to do with the demon and everything to do with her mana surging to life. He barely had enough time to throw himself at the ground again as lightning ripped out of her palm and jumped from one creature to the next. 

            Covering the back of his neck, Cullen grimaced as he felt body parts drop on him as corpses exploded and the stench of rotting flesh surrounded him. There was barely a pause before he heard a clap of thunder and the ground shook as lightning followed. Lifting his head, he saw Elora standing with her back to him. Her sword was still in hand and currents of electricity were rippling around both of her mitts. The demon was a mess of steaming flesh that was dissolving rapidly at her feet. He could hear her breathing hard, her shoulders rising with each pant for air as she stared down at the remains of her enemy. She suddenly half-turned, pivoting on the spot to look at him and he gaped at her. 

            He’d been around mages in battle since he was eighteen and officially a Templar. He was used to how being around mages felt when they were actively using magic for well over a decade. But the air was rippling around her as the Fade reclaimed the demon she had killed. He could practically see the magic in her, lighting her up from the inside as her mana and adrenaline flooded her. 

            He realised he was staring at her too late when her brows drew together. “Are you alright?” she asked, her voice tight and controlled. 

            Cullen nodded, grimacing again as muscles pulled when he pushed himself up. His face twisted as he realised he was coated in mud, his pants and rain slicker heavy with it. “Fine,” he muttered, making harsh motions to attempt to get the mud off of him. Why had he stared? She wasn't the first mage he’d partnered with. She wasn't the first mage to help him in battle. So why did he want to look again and again until she was committed to his memory? “The other Terror?” 

            “Dead,” she dismissed, her gaze darting over him. “Are you sure-“ 

            “We need to move!” Cassandra called shortly, making them both look at her. 

            Cullen frowned as he saw that she was on the far side of the platform. Almost exactly where she had been at the start of the fight. “Seeker, we should-“ 

            “Move.” 

            Cullen’s brows dropped low over his eyes even as he heard Elora make a noise that suspiciously sounded like a growl. But her sword disappeared and she started forward to climb back up to the platform. He followed a moment after her, scooping up the machete he had dropped in one of his rolls. He kept it in hand as he walked before swearing softly as he saw that Cassandra was nearly at the entrance to the rock formation. 

            “I don't like this,” Elora said lowly as they went toward the structure. 

            “Are we still being watched?” 

            She shook her head. “And that worries me,” she said, accepting his hand to help her over fallen rocks. “It was there before the demons but now it's gone.” 

            Meaning it, whatever it was, had lit the brazier and left them for dead. And it was quite possibly what Cassandra had them chasing after. “Do you think that's what happened to the scouts?” he asked, looking around the huge open area they had come to. The rocks formed nearly a perfect circle and there was a broken statue in the centre of it. “The demons and undead were summoned to kill them and the summoner absconded with their things?” 

            “Maybe. If that's the case, we're chasing a person and not a spirit.” 

            Not just a person, an apostate. He wasn't outfitted to chase an apostate. There'd been no hint of apostate activity in the Mire before they'd been sent so neither him nor Elora was geared up to fight a bloody loose Mage. 

            “This way!” Cassandra called from the other side of the clearing. 

            “Seeker, wait!” Cullen called back shortly and he saw her stop abruptly to look back at him. He could easily see her glare but it didn't deter him. “We aren't equipped to hunt a mage,” he said flatly when they reached her. “I don't have the weapons and neither does Elora.” 

            “What you have will be fine,” she dismissed. 

            His stomach sank. “Then we are hunting an apostate.” 

            Cassandra glanced between him and Elora, her brows drawing low over her eyes. “Is that going to be a problem?” 

            Cullen’s glove creaked around the grip of his machete. “Why are we out here, Seeker? Are we rescuing the scouts? Defending the workers? Hunting mages? Because my orders were to protect the workers.” 

            Her lips pressed together. “If there is an apostate, eliminating the threat would be keeping the workers and the scouts safe.” 

            “Eliminating,” Elora said softly but she didn’t sound impressed. “I thought most mage hunts were with the express purpose of bringing the apostate in unless they use deadly force against us.” 

            “Summoning those demons wasn’t enough deadly force for you?” 

            “We can’t know for certain that it was the apostate, if there even is one.” 

            Cassandra’s expression hardened and she looked through the gap in the rocks. “There is,” she said in a low voice. 

            “How could you possibly know-You have different mission orders,” Cullen said, putting two and two together. “You’re running separate missions when you go with us.” 

            “No, I’m not,” she said. “You just weren’t given all of the specifications for the missions.” 

            “Missions?” Cullen echoed, a horrible feeling settling in his gut. “How many missions have we been running where we don’t know what our actual objective is?” 

            “Do you want to do this now?” she demanded. “We’re sitting ducks here while we argue.” 

            “I’m not risking Elora or myself in a mission that we haven’t been fully briefed on. Plus she’s right, apostate missions are on a capture basis unless they resort to blood magic or the traditional methods of summoning demons.” 

            “Hunting apostates is usually done with multiple teams when they are capture runs. As it is just the three of us, we will eliminate the threat instead.” 

            “If they aren’t a threat, what then?” Elora asked softly. 

            “They are,” Cassandra said flatly. “Are you going to back me up or am I going in alone?” 

            Cullen’s back stiffened at the mere thought of letting her go alone. That wasn’t going to happen but he was less than impressed with this entire situation. “You’re not going alone,” he muttered. 

            Cassandra looked at Elora. “Are you coming?” 

            “Not for you,” she said lowly. 

            Cullen looked at her but she was staring hard at Cassanda. Sweet Maker, did she suddenly view Cassandra as a threat? Because that was too close to the look she had given Samson in the Gallows. Reaching out, he closed his free hand around her upper arm and squeezed. “Elora,” he said softly. “Look at me.” 

            She didn’t move and he felt her muscle tense under his hand. 

            “Elora,” he repeated, shaking her slightly and holding her gaze when angry eyes snapped to him. “Stand down,” Cullen said lowly. “We’ll finish the mission and once the scouts are found, we will talk about this. But for now, we cannot be divided in the field.” 

            He could hear her breathing sharply, exhaling hard through her nose. But her eyes were focused completely on him and, even if she didn’t like what he was saying, he knew she was listening to him. 

            “As soon as we’re back at camp,” he told her, “we will resolve this.” 

            “We had all better make it back to camp,” she muttered. 

            “We will,” Cullen assured her. “All of us.” 

            She stared at him for a second longer before she nodded once. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

            “You lead,” he told Cassandra. “It’s your apostate.” 

            Her mouth thinned before she spun on her heel to go through the gap in the rocks. He didn’t follow right away, still holding onto Elora’s arm and making sure he had her attention. 

            “Finish the mission, Elora,” he said quietly, keeping her gaze. “Keep emotions out of it for now.” 

            “She’s been lying to us,” she said flatly. “Presumably from the start with you.” 

            “I know. I know,” he repeated when she frowned at him. “But right now we are the only ones keeping each other alive and we’re the only hope those scouts have. We can’t abandon them or her.” 

            She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay,” she muttered. “Okay.” 

            He let her go when she shifted and hurried after Cassandra. He followed her at a quicker pace to catch up to the Seeker and he swore under his breath when he saw the stretch of water between them and the next area. “Is there a safe path?” he asked. 

            “There must be since the mage didn’t summon the undead, we would have heard them fighting them.” 

            “Unless it was at the same time as our fight,” Elora pointed out. 

            Cassandra was slowly shaking her head. “I doubt it. For a single mage to defeat all of the undead that would have been summoned, there would still be magic on the air. They must have had a path to walk to get across but we don’t have time to look for it.” 

            “So we summon undead and possibly leave ourselves open to attack from the apostate?” 

            “What other choice do we have right now?” 

            “Are we going to take the time to fight the undead here or do we attempt to lead them to the mage?” Cullen asked. 

            “Just charge through the water and ignore the undead?” Elora asked, staring at him. “And keep running? We don’t even know where the mage is!” 

            “There can’t be that many places to hide past here,” Cassandra mused. “Cullen’s idea might be best at this point.” 

            Elora threw up her hands. “Charging the mage with a bunch of undead on our asses? Yes, brilliant idea! I’m in fucking gumboots, how am I supposed to run through knee deep water and then keep going?” 

            “You’re going to have to,” Cassandra told her. “It’s the only way we’re getting through.” 

            Cullen heard her muttering under her breath as he sheathed his machete before he held out his hand to her. When she frowned at him, he wiggled his fingers and said, “Take it.” 

            “Are you just going to throw me over your shoulder again or pick me up?” she grumbled, glaring at his glove hard enough to make him smile. 

            He shook his head. “Not this time.” 

            “We need to go,” Cassandra said. 

            Elora nodded quickly and her hand smacked into his. “I hate my job,” she whispered, clinging to him. 

            His hand tightened around hers as Cassandra took off running. He waited a split second before he went after her. Elora was silent behind him but she didn’t let go of his hand and he heard her splashing through the water behind him. He didn’t look back, didn’t look to see how many corpses were now shambling out of the water. He kept his gaze on Cassandra’s back and followed her through the narrow corridor in the rocks. If they got caught in here, between the mage and the undead, it wasn’t going to end well for them. 

            “More water!” Cassandra yelled as she got out the other side of the passage. 

            “Fuck,” Cullen muttered under his breath. How far would the previous corpses follow them? Would they go all the way until they found the mage? How many were they even going to bring with them? 

            Splashing into the second water logged area, he didn’t miss the camp on the far end of this clearing. Whoever had made it didn’t seem to be aware of their presence yet but if they kept running through the water, it wouldn’t take long for them to be spotted. But there was no way in the Void that he was going to stop until he had a living enemy in front of him, that hopefully the undead would be perfectly willing to attack as well. 

            “There!” Cassandra said sharply. 

            “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Elora gasped from behind him and he echoed the sentiment. 

            There was a mage in the camp, but there was also a pair of heavily armed men as well. Cullen felt her hand heat in his and he instantly let her go, still moving forward even as he swung his gun up. The mage would probably shield the guards, but every bullet would pull from the barrier and there was the off chance that the mage would only think about themselves. He’d barely gotten a shot off before lightning was arcing between their enemies, Elora’s magic ripping through the air a second before the other mage’s. 

            “Fuck!” she shouted. “He’s a necromancer!” 

            Cullen’s heart sank at that. Every undead they had just summoned would now be another pawn for the other mage to use against them. “Take him down!” he yelled, ducking behind a tree as one of the body guards opened fire on him. He felt a shield snap around him even as bark exploded near his face, scattering against the barrier and not into his skin. “Shit,” he muttered. 

            He didn’t know where Cassandra was, again, the Seeker most likely charging right into the middle of the fray. How were they supposed to cover her when they didn’t have the time to?! Leaning around the tree, he fired more shots at the man closest to him, watching as they fell to the ground after impacting his own shield. Didn’t overly matter, every blow that landed was a point in their favour. 

            He heard a sharp cry and looked over quickly to see that the mage had directed the undead at Elora. He didn’t even bother telling her to try to get to him. Sacrificing the barrier she had thrown around him, he dropped the gun in favour of the machete and ran straight to her. 

            “That was dumb!” she snapped at him when he reached her, bowling over one of the corpses that had been coming up behind her. 

            “Don’t even start!” he growled back at her. Pivoting on one foot, he swung around so his back was facing hers and he could deal with the corpses coming at them. He was surprised but happy when he felt Elora bump into him as she pressed against him, keeping them tight to one another so nothing would get between them. He hadn’t expected her to catch on that fast. He also wasn’t expecting the barrier that he felt snap around the both of them. “That’s not practical!” 

            “It’s easier than two right now!” she said shortly and he heard the rapid burst of fire leaving her mitts. 

            He bit his tongue and focused on the ones coming at him. They couldn’t touch them, couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t touch them, and fists and weapons bounced off the barrier. Their confusion gave him the time to take them down, swinging brutally with the machete and cleaving many of them in two. He was using more energy than he should but he was upset about everything that had happened in the past half an hour. None of this should have happened. None of it. 

            His head snapped around when he heard Cassandra cry out furiously and saw that both the guards and the mage had her pinned. “Could this day get any worse?” 

            “For the love of the Maker, don’t get sick on me!” Elora snapped at him. 

            He started to look at her to demand what that had to do with anything when he felt her spin around and wind her arms around his waist. He had a small moment where he felt weightless and his stomach bottomed out. There was a buzzing in his ears and he swore the ground disappeared from under his feet before it slammed back into him. Or maybe it was he’d slammed into one of the enemies because both he and the bodyguard were now pitching to the ground. Stars swam in front of his eyes as his head cracked against the ground, making his stomach revolt further. 

            “Cullen!” 

            Giving himself a mental shake, he forced himself to move. He had lost his grip on the machete and the hand that had been holding it was pinned under the other man who got his bearings back faster than he had. Cullen grunted when a heavy weight landed on him, driving the air from his lungs before thick hands wrapped around his throat. He blindly grasped for his blade for a moment before giving up and planting his feet in the marshy ground to buck his body up. 

            It dislodged the other long enough for him to suck in a sharp breath of air, but he came down on him again, pushing down on his stomach and digging his fingers into Cullen’s windpipe. 

            Spots started to form in front of his eyes again and he wrapped his hands around his assailant’s wrists. It was brute strength against brute strength as he attempted to pry the grip from his neck.  But his own strength wavered as he couldn’t get any air. He refused to let go, refused to just give up and let himself die at the hands of this man. He hadn’t survived so much only to die like this, in the middle of a swamp at the backend of Ferelden.

            There was a flash of something behind the man on top of him and Cullen’s eyes widened when his grip slackened immediately. There was a moment where he stared down at Cullen, shock on his face, before a thin line of red formed on his neck and he started to topple forward. Reacting, Cullen shoved him to the side, not wanting his bulk to fall and pin him down. He gagged when blood sprayed against him as the man’s head went in the completely opposite direction, thudding into the mud beside Cullen’s shoulder. “Fucking Maker!” 

            “Are you okay?” Elora demanded almost shrilly. 

            He stared up at her from the mud. Her sword was back in her hand, blood dripping from it while she stared down at him in fright. She had just decapitated the enemy on top of him. With a single swing of that sword. “Maker’s breath,” he rasped. How much force had she had behind that swing? Or rather how much panic? 

            She crashed down beside him, batting the severed head away from him while her fingers tugged at the top of his fatigues. She jerked on the vest over them in an attempt to see his neck. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you about the Fade Step, but there was no time. Cassandra needed us and I couldn’t think of anything else and I’m sorry you didn’t have time to prepare for that. You did good though, you didn’t throw up. I threw up the first time I did it, it’s not fun, feeling yourself launch forward like that without moving at all. But you did good. Really good. Really, really good. Better than most men your size. It’s easier for smaller people but-” She stopped talking when he abruptly rolled away from her and heaved. “Oh, no. Oh, I’m so sorry!” 

            Cullen heard her still frantically apologizing over the sound of his vomiting but there was no way he could answer her. Keeping himself propped up on one shaking arm, he felt his stomach clench again and bile burned all the way up his throat. Added to the fact that his neck was definitely bruised, all it did was cause more pain. 

            He vaguely felt his rain slicker and vest come loose, buckles and straps undone to slide it off of him. Then there was a hand stroking his back in long soothing passes, the touch warm through his fatigues. It pressed firmly into his spine with each motion, offering silent comfort as he emptied his stomach. 

            When nothing more would come, when it was simply dry heaves, he attempted to stop. All he was doing was hurting himself further. It took longer than it should have but he finally got to the point where all he was doing was shaking and panting for air. The hand on his back became two, latching onto his shoulders and gently pulling him away from where he’d just been sick. 

            “Here, come here,” Elora murmured, rolling him in the mud. 

            He tried to protest, feeling the soggy ground soaking into his clothes but he couldn’t get the words out. He gave up entirely when she settled him in her lap, his back leaning against her chest, while his head was propped against her shoulder. Her legs were outstretched on either side of him and at his feet was the body of the- 

            “Close your eyes,” she whispered, one hand covering them as he gagged slightly. “Don’t look at it.” 

            Andraste’s ass, he’d seen dead bodies before! Why was this throwing him off so much?! 

            “It’s probably the Fade Step,” she murmured in his ear, gently rocking him. “It’ll pass in a moment or two but you probably shouldn’t move yet, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as best you can.” 

            He was trying but his throat hurt too much. Reaching up, he caught the hand covering his eyes and pulled it down to his neck. Cullen pressed the tips of her finger to his skin, feeling the warmth sparking in them already. A small sigh left him when he felt healing magic roll out of her and into him as the warmth grew, spreading over his skin and sinking into his flesh. “The mage?” he rasped once his throat didn’t feel like it was on fire anymore. 

            “Dead,” Elora said quietly. “Cassandra killed him. The undead dropped as soon as he did so he must have been maintaining the spell on the water in this area.” 

            “The others?” 

            Her fingers trembled against him slightly. “I took care of them.” 

            He tipped his head so he could see her, wondering about the waver in her voice. Knight-Enchanters were warriors. In days of old, they would lead their own troops into battle, fighting on the front lines with the Templars. In this Age, most mages went the route of healers or ranged fighters. But she had chosen Knight-Enchanter when it was clear she didn’t actually care for fighting. “Elora….” 

            “Them or us,” she said softly, “and I very much did not want it to be us.” 

            He seconded that opinion. “You saved my life again,” he said quietly, his throat still itchy but no longer burning. 

            She gave him a small smile. “That’s what partners do, yeah?” she whispered. “Because I really don’t want to find a new one.” 

            Neither did he. Closing his eyes, he slumped against her slightly and took slow breaths. It was the best thing for him to do right now because he didn’t trust himself to stay upright just yet. “Any signs of the missing scouts?” he muttered. 

            “Cassandra is looking. There’s cages, maybe, at the back of the clearing. She went to check them.” 

            “Alone?” he demanded, starting to push himself up. 

            Elora pulled him back down, her hands resting on his chest once he was still again. “I can still see her,” she assured him. “She’s within range of my spells for the moment so don’t worry.” 

            He grunted softly, shifting against her until he could get comfortable again. His ass was wet from the mud underneath him but other than that this was a surprisingly comfortable position to be in. And it seemed to something of a habit between them.

            “Today kinda sucked, Captain,” she said softly. 

            “Are you going to keep doing that?” he muttered. “Swinging between my name and my title? I’ve given you permission to use my name. Use it.” 

            “I-“ 

            “The scouts are here!” Cassandra called back to them. “Alive!” 

            “Thank the Maker for small miracles,” Elora whispered. “Injuries?” 

            “Minor at best. Simple healing should take care of it!” 

            “Good because I’m not sure I could do much more than that,” she muttered with a sigh. 

            Cullen was well aware of the fact that she had dodged his question, not giving him any reason why she wasn’t using his name nor agreeing to actually use it. He wasn’t going to let it go, not when she used it during high risk situations. One or the other, not flipping between both. Captain was fine, he could work with it, with the professionalism it brought to their team, but there was no way she could look him in the eye and tell him it wasn’t a defence mechanism. Cullen would be fine if she wasn’t constantly screaming it with panic in her voice because it was jarring, both her accent rolling over his name and the terror filling it. Which meant it just slipped out and he was willing to bet that was because she did want to use his name but something was stopping her. 

            A frown pulled at his mouth. Did it have something to do with her old team? Had she been on first name basis with them? She’d told them to call her Trev to begin with before changing her mind. It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out that it was what her old team had called her. So why was she fine with them using her first name but she wasn’t alright using his? Theirs. She didn’t refer to Cassandra by name except when she had been irritated. No, she’d just used it and she was calm enough. So it was just him. Why? Why was it just him? And why did he care so much?

            He opened his eyes when he heard the wet sounds of footsteps coming back toward them and watched as Cassandra led the scouts back to where they were. They were only slightly roughed up as she had said, but as he looked at the Seeker, he knew that the scouts were the least of their problems right now. 


	9. Truth

            Keeping her hands in her pockets, Elora slowly flexed her fingers out of sight, wanting nothing more than to lob a fireball to calm herself down. It wouldn't work but she was sure it would help her feel better. Because she was anything but good at the moment. Her nerves were wound tight, her emotions were all over the place, and her magic was snapping under her skin. But she didn't have an outlet to vent, not yet anyways.

            Although, with the way she was feeling, she might throw the magic at the pair of people arguing nearby if they didn’t stop soon.

            "You should have told me," Cullen snapped. "I had a right to know." 

            "This is the first mission that's had a secondary objective, Cullen." 

            "How can I believe that?" 

            "I don't like games, Knight-Captain. The omission of details was not my idea."

            “Then whose idea was it? Who told you to lie to me?”

            Elora watched Cullen pace a short distance from where she was sitting. While she had gotten very still thanks to her irritation, he had become mobile, stalking through the whole of the camp once they had gotten back. She had kept a close eye on him on the way back here, wanting to make sure he had completely recovered from the Fade Step and the beating he had taken in both fights. He’d seemed to bounce back fast enough, but she was still watching him.

            She barely reacted as she felt a small bolt of lightning land just outside of camp, a response to the memory she was trying not to think about, but she felt the tension go up because of it. The scouts and workers had all been brought back for the day and she was sure none of them wanted to be there. Not when Cullen and Cassandra had been arguing the entire time. She probably hadn't helped with the random bursts of magic but the more she thought about what had happened, the more she struggled for control. 

            It was a terrifying image, Cullen under the enemy and not getting up. And it was her fault. She hadn't warned him about the Fade Step, hadn't given him time to prepare himself. Then she had had to leave him to face the man that had charged at her, defending herself and taking him down. Pure panic had seized her when she'd spun back to find her partner and she had realised he had been far more affected by the magic than she had initially thought. That panic had led to gripping her sword far too tightly, doing a Fade Step before she had fully been ready to do it again, and swinging hard enough that she had pulled something in her side, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t losing anyone else, not Cassandra, not the scouts, not her Captain. 

            Chewing on the inside of her lip, she tuned out their argument. They kept going over the same facts and she had heard it five times already. Something else was eating at her thoughts. She hadn’t forgotten the question, demand really, Cullen had thrown at her while she’d been cradling him against her. She’d done that more for herself, to reassure herself that he was okay. But he had stayed with her for a lot longer than she had anticipated. She hadn’t known what to chalk that up to and she had kept her mouth shut about it while Cassandra had looked over the scouts. The healing they had needed was basic at most, bruises and minor cuts. They hadn’t been captured long enough to be tortured for whatever information the mage had been looking for. 

            Of course, since the mage was dead they didn’t know what he was looking for now either. Cassandra had searched his body and Cullen had helped her once he had regained his feet. They’d been efficient in stripping any information they could from the corpses, but there had been very little on them. She had patched up the scouts while they’d done that, unwilling to touch the two men she had killed. She felt better doing the minor healings and not thinking about the blood on her hands.

            About the only thing they knew was that the group wasn’t from Southern Thedas. They were from Tevinter and were a very long ways from home. Which also meant the mage was very much not an apostate. Cullen hadn’t been impressed with that fact because that had been a fully trained mage and not someone who was just running from the Chantry like Cassandra had led them to believe.

            “Miss?” 

            Blinking, Elora glanced over at the person coming up to her. It was one of the scouts that had remained at camp. “Hi?” she said. Everyone in the camp had been more than civil with her, even if the workers had been leery of her. She’d kept to herself, knowing that regular people weren’t comfortable around mages, even if they were working for the Chantry. Most of the time everyone left her alone, opting to talk with Cassandra or Cullen instead of her.

            The woman held out a mug to her. “You haven’t had your tea since you’ve been back, Miss.” 

            Elora stared for a long moment, her gaze moving between the scout and the cup. She had made her tea? “Oh. Thank you,” she said, reaching out to take the cup. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name.” 

            She smiled as if she wasn’t surprised. “Scout Harding,” she said. “You wouldn’t know the name, we weren’t actually introduced when you got here because I was out in the Mire.” 

            Well that made her feel a little bit better. But she was sure she had seen the dwarf at camp and never asked. “Thank you,” she said again, blowing on the hot drink. “I didn’t realise I had it every time I came back.” Or that someone was paying enough attention to her to notice that fact. 

            “The damp gets pretty bad here,” Harding said, crouching next to where Elora was sitting. “It gets deep and doesn’t go away. I’m guessing you’ve been using the tea to stay warm and I think you really need that right now.” 

            “I really need it to stop raining,” she muttered, looking out at the Mire. They weren’t at the main camp, opting for the secondary one since it was within a cave so they would be out of the rain. Of course that meant that everyone was pinned inside with a pair of arguing commanding officers. “And if they’d argue about something else.” 

            Harding drew patterns in the dirt for a moment before looking at her. “What are they arguing about, Miss? The mission was a success, the scouts were all rescued in one piece and the threat eliminated.” 

            Elora started to answer, to tell her they hadn’t been told of the specific threat, before she realised she probably shouldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the scout, but it was more of a private matter even if they were arguing about it where everyone could see and hear. But it wasn’t her place to actually tell the others what was causing the friction between Seeker and Templar.

            When she didn’t say anything, Harding bowed her head for a moment. “It’s alright. It’s almost clear enough what’s got them in such a state but they’re not going to come to blows are they? Beyond you, I’m not sure there’s anyone here that would be able to stop them.”

            “They could both smite me before I even attempted to stop them,” Elora reminded her.

            “Maybe. The others said you’re really fast with the magic.”

            “Doesn’t matter how fast or strong you are if you get caught in a smite,” she explained gently, blowing on the tea again. “And I wouldn’t attack them anyways.”

            “I didn’t mean attack,” Harding said quickly.

            “I know,” Elora said quietly. “But if their tempers are running high enough they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

            Harding fell quiet but she didn’t move away from Elora and she was strangely glad for her presence. She hadn’t realised how much she missed being able to just sit and talk with a person. Lunch with Cullen in Kirkwall had been the same way; they had agreed that they weren’t going to talk about work and it had been surprisingly pleasant. Despite her claims of waiting to stay apart, to not want to get attached, having lunch with him had done exactly the opposite. The hour they had spent at a table in that small café had been the perfect balm for the tension of the Gallows. The only problem with it was that it had been too short and he hadn’t let her pay.

            Sipping at the tea, she looked back at the arguing pair. They weren’t shouting at each other anymore, were talking in low voices that still conveyed their emotions more than well enough even if you couldn’t hear the words they said. Cullen was gesturing sharply, his gaze focused on Cassandra. Maker, he was mad. But she couldn’t tell if he was mad at Cassandra for lying or if he was just mad. Not that it mattered either way.

            She blinked in surprise when he suddenly shook his head at whatever Cassandra was saying and walked away from the Seeker.

            “Cullen,” Cassandra said firmly.

            He didn’t stop, walking out of the mouth of the cave and into the rain like he hadn’t even heard her.

            Elora stared after him for a moment before she set aside her cup and pushed off of her seat. He probably wanted to be left alone and she was making a mistake. But she didn’t stop walking.

            “Leave him, Elora.”

            She ignored Cassandra’s warning, following Cullen out into the rain. She flinched slightly as she realised she hadn’t grabbed her rain slicker but she kept going, not wanting to lose him in the Mire. But he didn’t go far, stopping at the edge of the water.

            He didn’t react when she came up to him and she didn’t say anything, leaving him to his thoughts for now.

            Staring out at the Mire, Elora felt like the horrible weather completely suited this entire mission. First the undead summoning water, then the demons, then the necromancer. Cassandra’s withholding information was just another bump in the road of this whole trip. She didn’t like it, didn’t like that they’d been lied to, but it wasn’t hitting her as hard as Cullen. She hadn’t known Cassandra as long as him and honestly, Cullen was her partner, not the Seeker.

            “I should have known it was too good to be true.”

            Elora looked at him. “What do you mean?”

            “The Seekers came a while ago because of the qunari, because of allegations at the Gallows, because Kirkwall is a magnet for every bad thing that has happened in the past ten years. Several of them stayed at the Barracks, easier to keep an eye on things they said, in the city and at the Gallows. Of the ones that stayed, Cassandra is the only one that paired up to run missions and she picked me. I thought it was because I’d been Knight-Captain at the Gallows that she was going to use me for information about the Knight-Commander. But she never asked. I should have known something was off when she didn’t ask.”

            Elora shifted a little closer to him. “How could you? She’s blunt and abrasive to be sure, but she’s also the Right Hand of the Divine. You don’t get that position by laying all your cards on the table.”

            “She lied to you too.”

            She knew why he was saying that; he didn’t understand why she was defending Cassandra. “I know and I’m not happy about it. But there’s not much I can honestly do about it. Not if I want to keep my job.”

            Cullen turned to face her, his gaze pensive. “You were ready to attack her out in the Mire.”

            “I know,” she said again. “I was also running on adrenaline and didn’t like the situation we were going into. If she’d made a move against you or me, I would have responded.”

            “She wouldn’t have.”

            Elora made a noise, staring at the swamp again. A part of her had known that. That no matter what Cassandra had said or done, she wouldn’t have attacked them without provocation. But the secrecy had set off something inside her, sparking her temper without her thinking about it. Something about the whole situation had made her uneasy and irritated. So she had responded.

            “And now?”

            “We’re not in danger from her, no matter what she was keeping from us.” Elora paused to glance at him. “Did she tell you why she was keeping that a secret?”

            Cullen shook his head. “We’ve got enough problems without adding that to it.”

            “Except knowing why might help us better understand.”

            “Understand what?”

            “Why she partnered with you in the first place? Cassandra Pentaghast isn’t the kind of person who does things without reason. She’s the Right Hand of the damn Divine.”

            “And my orders came from her.”

            They both turned at Cassandra’s voice and Elora didn’t miss the way Cullen took a half step so he was in front of her. “What orders are those?” he asked.

             Her lips pursed together but she didn’t look away from them. “War is coming,” she said shortly. “The Knight-Commanders deny it but it is coming.”

            “Because of Kirkwall?” Elora asked curiously, trying to move around Cullen but he wouldn’t let her.

            “Because of a great many things, the situation in Kirkwall being one of them. If there is to be one thing that could be blamed for the start of an all-out war, it will come from that city.”

            “Your orders?” Cullen asked, shooting Elora a look when she got around him.

            “To reform the Inquisition of old.”

            Elora felt Cullen stagger slightly beside her and her arm snapped out without thought. She knew she couldn’t hold up his weight, but she still tried to balance him as his boots slipped in the mud. His own arm wrapped around her shoulders, gripping her arm as he steadied himself. When he didn’t let go right away neither did she. She was pretty sure he needed her support in more than just the physical sense right now and she wasn’t much better.

            “The Inquisition,” he repeated. “That’s Justinia’s response to the threat of war? Reform the Inquisition?”

            “You haven’t been in the Gallows, serving there, in a few years, Cullen. You don’t understand how bad it is there.”

            “That’s one school,” he protested. “One out of how many?”

            “It only takes one to start a chain reaction,” Elora said softly.

            He frowned down at her. “The Gallows is a horrible place, I’ll admit that,” he said slowly, “but the others schools, Kinloch, Ostwick, the Lyceum in Cumberland, they’re leagues above it.”

            “We’re still forced to stay there, forced to go because of something we had no say in.”

            “Elora,” he said quietly, “do you honestly think that the mages in the Ostwick Academy would rebel, join a war?”

            “Probably not, but that’s just Ostwick. There are schools all across Thedas that have mages who don’t want to be there, see them as no better than the Circles of old…prisons to house mages because we’re wicked, evil creatures.”

            His fingers flexed on her, pulling her closer. “But you’re not,” he said softly.

            Elora glanced up at him to find him frowning down at her but Cassandra spoke next.

            “The Divine sanctioned both the Left and Right Hands to find those that would be appropriate to staff the Inquisition if the worst came to pass,” she explained. “It hasn’t happened, the war hasn’t been started outright, but we need to be ready in case it does.”

            When it does, Elora realised. Cassandra fully believed that the war was coming, that nothing was going to change that fact. Her stomach cramped at the thought and she turned so she could get closer to Cullen. War. Hadn’t Thedas had its fill of war? Hadn’t they gotten enough of it in the Fury Age when they had nearly destroyed the continent and it had taken almost two Ages to recover? Hadn’t they seen the pictures of western Orlais where it was nothing but sand and bandits gone mad? They wanted to bring that back to the world?

            “That doesn’t explain why you’re with us,” Cullen said lowly.

            “It should,” Cassandra countered. “The Inquisition will have forces, soldiers that will need to be trained and organized by someone who knows what he’s doing. Someone who is capable enough to run a military force that may have to combat mages and Templars alike.”

            A tremble ran through Cullen and Elora wrapped both of her arms around his middle. “Someone?” he echoed.

            “You,” she said firmly. “If you want it.”

            Cullen’s fingers were digging into her but Elora didn’t make a sound, just held onto him and started to shake herself. Cassandra wanted him to leave the Templars to lead the Inquisition’s forces? No! She had just gotten paired with him! She didn’t want to lose him when she had only just gotten him!

            “I’ve run enough missions with you, I’ve been around you long enough that I know you could do it. You could be the Inquisition’s Commander.”

            Turning her face into Cullen’s chest, Elora told herself to breathe. It was an amazing offer. To be thought so highly of, to be offered a position like this…it was historic and monumental. The Inquisition of old had shook the world, had given way to the Templars of today. To be asked to be a part of it was a great honour…and she wanted him to turn it down. Which was horrible and selfish. But if a war with the mages was on the horizon, there wouldn’t be much room for a mage within the commanding ranks of that kind of organization. Who would trust her if she was the enemy they were fighting?

            “I’m a Templar,” Cullen said quietly.

            Relief flooded Elora before it turned sour. No, she shouldn’t be happy about this. This was a good chance for him. Why was he turning it down?

            “The choice is yours, Cullen,” Cassandra said after a moment. “My offer stands because I cannot think of a single person better suited to that role.”

            “Thank you.”

            When she didn’t hear Cassandra move off, Elora peeked at her and saw that she was watching the pair of them but the Seeker’s gaze was focused on her. She liked Cassandra, even though she was prickly and harsh at times. She was solid backup and, despite the secrets, she was a good person. But right now she had no idea what Cassandra thought about her. Did the Seeker think that she was somehow holding Cullen back?

            “With the mage dead, the troops stationed here are more than enough to keep the workers safe,” she said finally. “You’re both sanctioned to go back to Kirkwall.”

            “You’re not coming?” Elora asked as she started to leave.

            “The Divine has chosen a location for peace talks, should the need for them arise. I’ve been tasked with securing them.”

            “Where?”

            Cassandra glanced back at her. “If we’re lucky, you won’t ever find out.”

            Elora watched her walk away, dread settling heavily in her stomach. War. Between the mages and Templars? Were things truly that bad? A shudder ripped through her as she thought about her trip to the Gallows with Cullen. The place had felt sick to her, fear and madness pushing down on her the deeper she had gone into the massive place. If the other schools felt even half of what that place did, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to assume the mages wanted out.

            “The Inquisition,” Cullen said lowly.

            Leaning back, she looked at him but his gaze was on Cassandra’s retreating form. “You’re really not going to take her offer?”

            “No. I mean…I have a job. If there’s war coming, shouldn’t I be with the Templars to keep the peace as much as it can be kept?”

            He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “And if the Templars are simply one side of the war?”

            His eyes snapped down to her, his brows drawing low. “You believe her? That the Templars and mages will soon be at each other’s throats.”

            “That depends on a lot of things. I had heard the Grand Enchanter was calling for another vote about separating the schools from the Chantry, that there was some news on…Tranquils.”

            “How did you hear about that?”

            She shrugged slightly.

            “Elora, please,” he said tightly, “don’t keep secrets from me as well. I can’t have that right now. Not from you.”

            “I don’t have a lot of friends from school,” she admitted, “but one of my teachers was always fond of me. She keeps me up to date with everything that’s going on in the schools since she knows I haven’t been back to one. She’s gone to the Lyceum to be there for the vote.”

            “I thought the vote would take place at the White Spire.”

            “Too many Templars in Val Royeaux. It got moved to Nevarra at the last minute.”

            He fell silent but he didn’t let go of her. “War,” he said quietly. “We’re barely ten years past a Blight and now this?”

            Closing her eyes, she let her head rest on his chest again. If war did happen, she would be expected to fight with the Templars. But beyond Cullen could she trust any of them to actually help her if they were fighting mages? Or could she expect them to turn on her when she needed them most?

            “We need to go back to Kirkwall,” Cullen said softly.

            Where the war was supposed to start. “Do we have to?” she whispered.

            He squeezed her and she thought she felt his chin rest on the top of her head for a moment. “Yes. Hopefully…hopefully Cassandra is wrong.”

            Elora didn’t want to let him go but she forced her arms to drop and take a step back from him. “Alright.”

            “Hey,” he said, reaching out to catch her arm, turning her back to him. “I’ll keep you safe if the worst comes to pass.”

            “It’s not you I’m worried about,” she admitted. “Those Templars in the Gallows? They’d slit my throat the instant they had the chance and laugh while they were doing it. If the war starts there, it’s going to be really hard to tell friend from foe when we’re all wearing the same uniform.”

            Cullen’s lips pressed together and it hurt that she’d had to say that. It hurt even more that they both knew she was questioning if he would defend her from his brothers and sisters in the Order if they tried to attack her.

            Elora gave him a weak smile. “Hey, it might all be for naught, yeah? Maybe Cassandra is wrong, maybe the Divine is wrong, maybe we’re just freaking out over nothing.”

            “You don’t believe that.”

            Elora spread her hands, not knowing what else to say. A little over a month of working together wouldn’t outweigh the years he had spent being a Templar. As much as it killed her to think about it, she knew where she would fall. “Doesn’t matter.”

            “You matter, Elora,” he said firmly. “Don’t think that you don’t.”

            That was all well and good for him to say…but she wasn’t sure it would mean a lot once they were back in Kirkwall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about skipping last week, had too many things going on (ie got completely derailed by another au idea) and didn't have time to edit the chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to keep the Friday schedule going from now on!


	10. Promises

            Pulling to the side of the road, Cullen wanted to swear. It was raining too hard for him to see and the closer they got to the Storm Coast the more he had to pay attention. He knew there were steep banks and sharp turns all through the area and it wasn’t safe to continue, not in the dark and in the rain. If it had just been himself, he would have continued at a much slower pace, but Elora was curled up in the passenger seat beside him. He wasn’t going to risk her safety just to make time. 

            What a welcome back to his home country. Constant rain and demons, plus a partner lying to him and a mage hunt. Now there was more rain on the northern coast as they attempted to get back to Kirkwall and an extra day that he would have to justify since he wasn’t going any further tonight.  

            He quickly made sure that he was far enough off the road before he looked at Elora. His expression softened slightly as he saw that she was slumped against the window, having fallen asleep a while ago. He should have stopped sooner, maybe in a town or a roadside inn to let her rest properly, but he’d wanted as much distance between them and the Mire as he could get. “Elora,” he said softly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. 

            She mumbled something under her breath but she didn’t move or wake up. 

            Cullen was loathe to wake her, wanting to let her rest as much as she could. But that position couldn’t be comfortable at all. Glancing into the back of the rover, he pressed his lips together. The backseat was covered in their gear and equipment and there was no point in moving it. There were a couple larger things in the very back but that would probably be the better place. 

            Slumping in his seat, he let out a slow breath as he thought about that. Should he move her? Would she be more comfortable in the back? She was small enough that staying in her seat wouldn’t be bad for her but he wasn’t too keen on sleeping in the front. He was a little too tall to fit nicely. Which meant he needed to see how much room he could make in the back.  

            Pulling his rain slicker out from behind the seat, he struggled to get it on without making too much noise. Or accidentally punching her within the confines of the front seat. He slipped outside, flicking up the hood as rain pelted him. He kept a grip on the vehicle as he walked to the back of it, trying to make sure he didn’t slip in the mud on the side of the road. 

            He opened the hatch after a moment of fumbling and frowned into it. It would be tight but there was room. Shifting the tent frames to the side, he carefully piled things on top of the bags and found what supplies he could move to the front seats. He worked as quietly as he could but he wasn’t overly surprised when he heard the front seat creak and Elora was blinking blearily back at him through the rover. 

            “Whatchu doin?” she mumbled. 

            “Setting up for the night,” he told her, hefting a bag to move it. 

            She was still looking at him as he moved around the vehicle to the back door and set the bag down. “The night?” 

            “The weather’s too bad for us to keep going,” he murmured. “We’ll sleep for a few hours or until daybreak and hopefully it’ll blow over.” 

            Elora hummed around a yawn. “Want help?” 

            He smiled at her. “I’ve got it,” he said softly. 

            She smiled sleepily at him and closed her eyes as she slumped on the seat again. 

            He watched her for a moment before he went back to his task. There wasn’t a lot of room to be cleared but it was enough for them to lay down at the least. The back seat was shoved forward as far as it would go and he was sure he was going to be cramped a bit, but there was nothing else to be done about it. 

            Pulling blankets out of the backseat, he hurried to the back to keep them from getting too wet and spread them out on the space he’d cleared. It might be worse than the front but there was nothing to be done about it now. Moving to the front, he opened Elora’s door and reached around her to undo her seatbelt. She sleepily turned to him and cuddled into him when he scooped her out of the seat. 

            His heart gave a solid thump in his chest as she turned toward him. She was a warm weight in his arms and he wanted to keep her there but she mumbled when rain hit her face and it made him move. 

            Carrying her to the back, he carefully laid her out on the blankets, watching as she cuddled into them. Barely opened eyes watched him as he gently loosened the laces of her boots and slipped them off her feet. He set them on top of the pile of gear to the side before moving back to the front. He grabbed the small bag that had been at her feet and locked the doors. Closing the passenger door, he went back to where the hatch was open and he smiled faintly when he saw that she had cuddled further into the blankets, making a tiny nest in the few minutes he’d been gone. “Shove over,” he said quietly, planting a knee on the blankets and setting her bag down in the back. 

            She made a noise and shuffled toward the side of the car. 

            He felt her watching him as he took off his rain slicker, moving to spread it out over the items on the back seat so it wouldn’t drip on them. He sat down to pull off his boots before reaching up for the hatch. As soon as it was closed, they were plunged into darkness for a few moments before he felt a small rush of mana behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Elora had conjured a small ball of light in the palm of her hand. “Thank you,” he murmured, moving to stretch out as much as he could beside her. 

            Elora hummed again. “Kinda cozy,” she sighed as he brushed against her as he tried to settle down. 

            “I’m sorry there isn’t more room.” 

            “It’s fine. More than fine. Thank you.” 

            He gave her a half smile before settling down as much as he could. His legs were at an awkward angle because of how she was lying but he wasn’t going to ask her to move. There really wasn’t anywhere to move to after all. Closing his eyes, he resigned himself to the fact that he was going to be crooked and in pain tomorrow. 

            The light went out and he heard Elora shuffling around. “Go to sleep,” he muttered. 

            She mumbled something before she stopped squirming. 

            He was surprised when he felt her hand grope around before she found his arm and tugged on him. “Elora?” 

            “Come here,” she murmured. 

            Cullen hesitated, wondering if she was suggesting what he thought she was. 

            “We’re both adults,” she said softly. “It’s going to get cold and you’re uncomfortable like you are.” 

            He still hesitated as she tugged on him again. It wasn’t overly proper, even if she was right. “I….” 

            “It’s just one night.” 

            Sighing, he rolled further onto his side, letting her pull his arm so it was draped over her. His knees came up to balance himself, following the line of her body as he realised she’d done the same. He waited for a second before sighing and moving so he could bury his face in her loose hair. He shouldn’t have, it was crossing so many lines, but with the way he was laying it was just easier to do. 

            A quiet noise left Elora, but it was sleepy and he could already feel her relaxing. Her breathing was soft and even and he suddenly realised he hadn’t warned her about the fact that he sometimes talked in his sleep or that he had nightmares more nights than not. But it was too late now because he didn’t want to wake her up again just to tell her something that might not happen. 

            Relaxing into the impromptu bed, Cullen told himself it would be alright. He hadn’t pushed himself, he’d taken lyrium today, and all they’d done was drive with short breaks to stretch their legs. Maybe he would get lucky and not rouse her at all or wake up before her so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. He usually wasn’t that lucky but maybe…. 

            Breathing deeply, Cullen kept his eyes shut even though he knew he wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. He didn’t know how long he had slept for but he had a cramp in his arm. He felt alright, not great, but alright. A waft of scents hit his nose and he frowned slightly. That wasn’t what he was used to. For starters, it was floral and sweet. It didn’t smell like any of the scents he used to wash his clothes but…. 

            “Mm.” 

            His eyes popped open at the feminine sigh but all he could see was dark hair. His face was buried in it, strands were even in his mouth. Pulling his head back slightly, he pushed the hair out of his mouth and gave himself a little shake. Curly hair still greeted him but there was enough light that he could see what was going on. Elora. He was wrapped around Elora in the back of the vehicle because he had had to stop due to the rain. They were pressed tightly together despite the fact that there was room for the both of them lying like this. His arm was looped around her middle, keeping her close to him, and the other was being used as a pillow for both of them. 

            Blinking slowly, he cleared his throat and it came out harsher than he’d intended. But all Elora did was cuddle back into him. “Elora,” he said softly, moving the arm over her to try to shake her. Or he would have if she hadn’t latched onto his hand and pulled it back to her. “Wake up.” 

            “Mm, no,” she sighed. “Go back to sleep.” 

            Maker, did she think he was someone else? Did she not remember that they had stopped for the night like he had? “Elora, come on. We need to get moving.” 

            She made a disgruntled noise. 

            Cullen’s eyes widened when she rolled onto her belly and didn’t let him go, hauling him with her. He had no way to catch himself and he landed on top of her. He thought he heard her breath leave her in a sharp exhale but she didn’t move. “Elora, wake up,” he said again. “It’s me. Cullen.” 

            This time it was a quiet noise. “I know who you are,” she mumbled. 

            He didn’t think that she did. “Elora, please,” he said softly. “We need to leave.” 

            “But I want to sleep.” 

            “You can still sleep while I drive. That’s fine.” 

            She seemed to pause. “Drive? Where are we going?” 

            “Back to Kirkwall.” 

            Elora was quiet for a long moment before he actually felt the moment she fully woke up. “…Captain?” she said in a small voice. 

            “Yes,” he said, trying not to sigh in relief. 

            “Oh, Maker, I’m so sorry!” she gasped. 

            A grunt left him when she pushed up so he could move his arms from under her, but all she did was slam herself into him. He grit his teeth, bowing his head over her shoulder and she froze under him. “Just stay there,” he said tensely. 

            She trembled but didn’t move as he carefully extracted himself from around her. She quickly dropped back to the blankets when he was braced on his hands and knees. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her voice somehow even smaller. 

            “No harm done,” he said, taking a calming breath before he shifted to the small space beside her. He didn’t miss the way she shuffled toward the side of the vehicle and refused to look at him. “Your boots are back here, along with your bag.” 

            “Thank you.” 

            Cullen studied her for a moment before carefully moving to the door. Opening it, he let his legs hang over the side as he sat on the edge. It was still raining but the sun was shining enough to break through the light cloud cover. Tugging on his boots, Cullen glanced over his shoulder and saw that Elora hadn’t moved, was still curled against the side of the vehicle. “I’m going to stretch my legs for a little bit so you don’t have to get up right away.” 

            She mumbled a reply. 

            He moved away from the car, walking to the treeline. He didn’t go far, circling a tree and leaning back against it. A deep sigh left him as he stared up at the leaves. Andraste preserve him. That wasn’t…Maker, what would it be like to wake up like that every day? No. he couldn’t think about that. She was his partner and had to remain as such. He couldn’t think about her as anything but his partner. No matter how soft she’d been in his arms, no matter how much he had liked the feel of her against him. It had been the same way in the Mire when Cassandra had come to talk to them. She’d been pressed the length of him, arms wrapped around his middle to support him long after he hadn’t needed the support anymore.

            He’d told himself it was a comfort, for both of them considering what Cassandra had been talking about. But the way she had just wrapped him around her made him question that. Was it subconsciously done or had she been completely aware of what she was doing? He wasn’t so sure it mattered because either way, he had the same reaction now that he had had then and it wasn’t appropriate in the slightest.

            Biting his lip, he reached down to rub his cock through his pants. He could tell himself not to think about her all he wanted, but that didn’t do him a lick of good when he got an erection from holding her. His head thumped back against the tree and a low moan left him as his cock ached. Maker, the rest of this drive was going to be pure torture with her sitting right beside him, her scent filling his nose, the memory of what she felt like in his arms, and knowing that he couldn’t touch her at all. But he would have to do it.

            Closing his eyes, he forced his hand down and took a deep breath. Whatever thoughts he entertained in the dark couldn’t be more than just that, midnight fantasies. If Cassandra was right, if there was war on the horizon, the last thing either of them needed was further complicating their relationship with a mess of romantic emotions. It wouldn’t be a good idea. He wasn’t in any state to be with anyone, no matter how much he was attracted to them, no matter how much he wanted something good in his life.

            He stayed behind the tree until he felt in control enough to walk back to the vehicle. Elora was sitting on the back of it, tying her boots, and flicked a glance at him as he came up to her. “Did you sleep alright?” he asked.

            “Yeah,” she said softly, not looking at him.

            Shit. “Hey,” he said, moving around so he was standing in front of her. “Elora, look at me.”

            Cullen waited as she stared at her boots for a long while before she finally peeked up at him.

            “No harm done right?” he told her, smiling faintly. “We’re both adults, remember?”

            Her brows drew together and she pursed her lips. “That was before I made a fool of myself,” she muttered.

            “How’d you do that?”

            She gave him a look like he was an idiot and he wanted to sigh in relief since it was so much closer to what he was used to from her. “How did I not?” Elora demanded.

            “And I’m telling you there was no harm done,” he repeated. “You going to believe me? Because if Cassandra’s right and Kirkwall becomes a warzone, I need you to support me the way you have since we started working together. I need you watching my back, Elora, and how are you supposed to do that when you can’t even look at me?”

            “I…,” she trailed off weakly.

            “Trust me, Elora,” Cullen said firmly. “There’s no harm done.”

            “You sure?” she asked faintly.

            “Have I lied to you yet?”

            That got a small smile from her and her shoulders slumped with a sigh. “Can’t even follow my own advice,” she muttered. “You sure you want me watching your back?”

            “Wouldn’t want anyone else,” he said honestly.

            She shook her head like she didn’t believe him before shooing him back so she could hop to the ground. “Are we going now?” she asked, stretching.

            “We should,” he admitted, looking around. “They’re expecting us and we’re already late.”

            “Eating in the car then?”

            He nodded and watched her as she moved up to the back doors. When she pulled on the handle and it didn’t open, she looked back at him expectantly. He reached into his pocket to unlock it for her and watched for a moment longer as she leaned into the back. Jerking his eyes to the space they had slept in, he busied himself with gathering up the blankets and spreading the gear back out so it didn’t shift too much on the corners. He snagged her bag before closing the hatch.

            Walking along the driver’s side of the rover, he stopped for a moment to toss the blankets onto the back seat. He tossed what was on his seat haphazardly into the back and ignored Elora’s snort as she slid into her seat.

            “I thought Templars were famed for their order,” she teased.

            Levering himself up into his seat, he handed her the bag and muttered, “I don’t have time for order.”

            A soft laugh left her and she didn’t say anything as he started the engine. Once they were moving, she handed him his bit of breakfast, more dry rations and showed him she had the canteen of water. “I know we could be walking into a shitstorm with Kirkwall,” Elora muttered. “But I am very much looking forward to a real meal when we get back.”

            It was his turn to laugh. “Not one for camp food?”

            “Too long being off of it,” she admitted. “I will never complain about having to cook for myself ever again.”

            “And what about the junk food?” he asked, sliding a glance at her.

            “Oh, don’t even start with me. You are honestly telling me that you don’t like a fried meal every once in a while?”

            “I never said that. I’m not the one that has the mana problems when I eat it though.”

            She huffed at him and he didn’t need to look at her to know she was sulking. “I’m going to try calling my cousin,” she muttered and he heard her fishing around in her bag.

            Cullen smiled to himself, not saying anything as he started eating. She knew he was right and he wasn’t going to push the matter. Of course, trying not to listen as she called wasn’t an easy thing to do. For starters, her talking was the only noise filling the vehicle so there wasn’t much to do but listen to her voice. But listening as she pleaded with her cousin to just call her back made him ache. When she sighed, he knew the answer but he still asked, “Nothing?”

            “No,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t get it. Usually he gets back to me in a couple days. No matter how busy he is, he always gets back to me.”

            And it had been weeks now.

            “It’s so strange,” she continued and he heard her fingers tapping at her phone. “He isn’t usually gone this long either and I’ve tried calling his group but they don’t answer my calls either.”

            “Did you want me to look into it?” he asked. “You said he worked with Sebastian Vael, right? He’s been known to associate with Hawke so I could see if she knows anything about the group.”

            “Oh, no, it’s alright. If Sebastian is in Kirkwall, he might not even know what’s going on with the crew.”

            “I can still ask, Elora.”

            She fell silent. “Is it wrong that I almost don’t want news?” she whispered. “What do they say? That no news is better than bad news?”

            Glancing at her, Cullen reached out and caught one of her hands. He squeezed her gently and wished he could have held her gaze when she looked at him. But her hand tightened around his so he knew he had her attention. “It’s not wrong but are you going to be okay with it if you don’t ever ask?”

            “No,” she said, her voice shaking.

            He squeezed her again. “When we get back to Kirkwall, I’ll talk to Hawke. She can ask Vael about it and maybe give you some peace of mind.”

            “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured.

            “I want to help, Elora. This is important to you so if I can help, I will.”

            “Thank you.” She squeezed his hand back before her fingers relaxed around his. “You’ll probably want that back,” she said. “Since it’s still raining and all.”

            He held on for a moment longer, giving what comfort he could before he put his hand back on the wheel. The roads in northern Ferelden were constantly being repaired, the rain and close proximity to open water not helping matters much. He knew mudslides were quite common and he prayed that they wouldn’t have to deal with one today. If he had his bearings right, they weren’t too far from the base outside of Highever that they’d ship out of. Which made stopping a little more ridiculous if they were that close but they were no good to the people in the base if they drove off the road into the water.

            “I want a damn shower when we get to the base,” she muttered. “You don’t think we’ll have to go to Kirkwall right away do you?”

            “Probably not. Someone will want a debriefing on what happened in the Mire,” he said absently. “And I doubt we’re needed back in the city that much.”

            “You do remember you’re the Knight-Captain, yeah? If something happens, they’re going to want you back as quickly as possible.”

            He wasn’t so sure, not if he was walking a fine line with Meredith. As much as he hated to admit it, he was sure that Tomas would bow before whatever Meredith demanded. If she didn’t want him back, he wasn’t sure he’d get the order to come back. It would be ridiculous if it came to that though. He’d served in Kirkwall for ten years and if she was going to suddenly spurn him because of his recent actions? Well, maybe he didn’t want anything to do with her and her policies.

            They fell into silence as he drove the last stretch to the base and he felt his gut clench when he saw the troops stationed along the road before they even got near the gate. They weren’t stopped, but they were definitely watched and he was sure that the plates had been run to confirm the vehicle as Chantry owned. “Shit,” he muttered. If this many Templars were out of the base, the Barracks was on high alert. Something had happened. “Elora, can you-”

            “I’m looking,” she said, popping the glove box to look for their IDs.

            Slowing, Cullen rubbed his thumbs against the steering wheel. He didn’t like this. One bit. The Templars here weren’t as high strung as the Gallows but he hadn’t worked with them, didn’t know them as well as the ones in Kirkwall. He had no idea what they were walking into, what to expect when they got through the gates. “When we’re through,” he said lowly, “you stay close to me. I don’t care what anyone says, you don’t leave my side. Understood?”

            “Understood,” she said softly.

            Stopping outside the closed gates, he took the badges from her as he watched a guard approaching the car. He rolled down the window as the man came up to them. “Knight-Captain Rutherford,” he said quietly, handing the badges over, “and Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan, reporting back from the Fallow Mire. Seeker Pentaghast-“

            “Radioed ahead to let us know she wouldn’t be with you,” the guard said, nodding. “We’ve been waiting for you, Ser, both of you. You and the Knight-Enchanter have been ordered back to Kirkwall.”

            “What happened?” Cullen demanded.

            “You haven’t heard?” the man said in surprise.

            “Fallow Mire, Templar,” he said shortly. “News doesn’t travel there.”

            The man hesitated, glancing back into the base. “I’m not the one to pass on the news,” he finally said. “Knight-Captain Fletcher wants to talk to you before you go. He’ll debrief you on what happened.”

            Maker’s breath, what had bloody happened? He took the badges and drove through the gate as soon as it was opened. “Elora-”

            “You are going to wish you hadn’t told me to stay close,” she whispered. “Because I’m going to be glued to your side.”

            He actually breathed a sigh of relief at that before throwing the rover into park when he got to the place they’d been directed to park. “Come on,” he said, giving her badge back.

            Her door opened and closed sharply as she got out of the car with him and he waited until she was near him before he started forward. “Where’s Knight-Captain Fletcher?” he asked the first Templar they got to.

            Pale eyes flicked to the name on his fatigues. “Come with me, ser,” he said. “He’s been waiting for you. We expected you last night.”

            “Stopped because of the rain,” he said shortly, throwing looks over his shoulder to make sure Elora stayed close. She was good to her word, nearly stepping on his heels as she followed him.

            “Probably a good plan. We got word that a few of the lower roads were washed out overnight.”

            Cullen nodded before he went through the door the Templar held open for him.

            “Knight-Captain Cullen,” a voice said and he turned to the man approaching him. “You made it, good. The Knight-Enchanter?”

            “Right here, Ser,” Elora said quietly, taking a half step from behind Cullen so the other could see her.

            “Good,” he repeated. “You’re both being shipped back to Kirkwall, Knight-Commander’s orders.”

            “Which one?” Cullen asked quietly.

            “Both of ‘em,” he muttered. “City’s gone to shit and they want every person the Chantry has on their payroll back in Kirkwall before the sun sets.”

            Meaning airlift back. “What happened?”

            Fletcher stared before shaking himself and gesturing at another door. “The chopper’s ready for you to go. We can walk and talk.”

            Reaching behind him, Cullen grabbed Elora’s hand blindly and didn’t let go as they followed the Knight-Captain. He didn’t like the fact that no one was answering his question about what had happened because ‘gone to shit’ was the usual descriptor for the city. Meaning whatever had happened was bad, even for Kirkwall.

            She squeezed his hand, giving him the support he needed.

            “Fletcher, what happened?” Cullen asked again as they got back outside. “I’m not walking into another situation blind.”

            “You really haven’t heard?” he asked and Cullen heard the plaintive note in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to be the one that told them.

            “Fallow Mire and neither of us enjoys listening to the radio.” They’d talked for the most part or just sat in comfortable silence as he had driven. Now he almost wished he had turned it on.

            Fletcher licked his lips and looked away for a long moment before he blew out a harsh breath. “An apostate blew up the Chantry,” he said flatly.

            Cullen stopped dead and felt Elora stagger into him. “What?” he demanded loudly. “What do you mean?”

            “Exactly what I said. Not many details have come out of the city beyond that fact but the whole place is in an uproar along with the rest of the continent. The place is on lock down so far as I understand and the only people allowed in are Templars that are being summoned back.

            “Maker’s mercy,” Elora whispered behind him, clinging to his hand now. “How many have died?”

            “We don’t know,” Fletcher sighed. “The only thing we know for sure…Grand Cleric Elthina…she was in the Chantry when it was destroyed.”

            A panicked noise left Elora. “A mage killed the Grand Cleric?” she said in a small voice.

            The look Fletcher gave her was pained. “Yes, Trevelyan.”

            “Fuck.”

            She was shaking, he could feel it, but he didn’t know what to do. They hadn’t been out of Kirkwall for that long. How had so much shit happened in the space of a week? “We’ve both been ordered back?” he asked, a sinking feeling coiling in his stomach.

            “Yes.”

            Fletcher had said the order came from both Knight-Commanders, but Cullen was willing to bet his entire salary it was only Meredith that had issued the order. She’d want them both back, alright, most likely to brand Elora and lock him up if he didn’t bow to her demands. “Shit,” he whispered.

            The other Knight-Captain pointed at a chopper that was waiting on the pad. “It’s to take you back now,” he said. “I wish you could get a bit of a break, but orders are orders.”

            Cullen nodded slightly, watching as the blades of the propellers started up. But his mind was spinning, too many thoughts tumbling over one another. Cassandra had said war was coming but she couldn’t have known this would happen. She couldn’t. And a mage destroying the Chantry? The Templars in the Gallows were going to have a field day with this.

            “Captain?” Elora asked softly.

            He looked at her, his brows drawing together. What had she said? Slit her throat and laugh about it? Maker, help him, no mage was safe in that city anymore. It wouldn’t matter that she worked for the Chantry. The people of the city, the Templars, could all look at her as the enemy. The mages could see her as a traitor for working with the Templars if they took up arms against the Order. He had promised to keep her safe, had told her that she mattered to him, and he had meant it. But could he keep her safe against the rage of an entire city?

            “What is it?” she whispered, her eyes darting over his face.

            “You’re staying here,” he said firmly.

            “What?” she said in surprise before shaking her head. “No! You can’t mean that! We were both ordered back! You can’t go against the Knight-Commanders!”

            He was about to. “That city is going to be tearing itself apart, looking for any reason to hurt the person next to them. I’m not taking you into that.”

            “I’m not letting you walk into it alone!” Elora snapped, jerking her hand out of his. “I can’t watch your back if I’m not in the same fucking country as you!”

            “I’ll be fine.” He hated that it was true because he knew he would be panicked over her wellbeing if she was with him, that he would make mistakes because he would be too worried about her. And no matter what anyone thought of him, he was still a Templar.

            “Like fuck you will!” she yelled, shoving against his chest. “You don’t take care of yourself! You forget to eat! You barely sleep! None of that is going to keep you safe in Kirkwall!”

            “I’ll be fine,” he repeated. “I’ll be with the Order.”

            “I don’t trust them to keep you safe!”

            “Elora, stop.”

            “No! Cassandra’s gone and I’m not letting you go alone! I was ordered back and I’m go-”

            “Elora,” he said again, cupping her face and pulling her closer to him, “stop.”

            Her breath left her in a whoosh and her eyes darted over his face. “No,” she repeated, her lower lip trembling. “You’re not leaving me here.”

            “I can’t keep you safe in Kirkwall,” Cullen said honestly. “I can’t.”

            Her hands came up to grip his wrists, clinging to him again. “Please,” she whispered.

            “No,” he said gently.

            He watched as tears filled her eyes and she shook her head slightly. “Please don’t leave me.”

            Maker help him. “I’ll come back,” he promised, leaning closer to her so she’d hear him over the sounds of the helicopter. “I will come back.”

            A single tear spilled over and he gently rubbed it away. She turned into the touch, her eyes squeezing shut and pain etched into every line of her face. He didn’t like seeing her like this, could only imagine what she was thinking, but he wasn’t taking her to Kirkwall. It wasn’t going to happen.

            “Elora, I’ll come back to you,” he said firmly. “But you have to promise me you’ll be here, that you won’t do anything rash or stupid. I want you here, in one piece, when I get back.”

            She sniffed, her face still turned into his palm. “I want to go with you,” she pleaded in a small voice.

            “Elora,” he begged, leaning forward further, “please.”

            Her lower lip wobbled. “You promise you’ll come back?” she whispered.

            “I swear to the Maker,” Cullen promised. “I’ll come back to you.”

            “You had better,” she said but there was no heat in her voice.

            Cullen couldn’t even muster the will to laugh or respond to that. He held her gaze, wishing tear-filled eyes weren’t the last he was going to see before going to Kirkwall. Maker, for one more smile, one more tease, one more moment of her pressed up against him. He saw her lick her lips, her fingers flexing on him, and he started to respond, started closing the distance between them.

            “Ser! They’re waiting for you!”

            Closing his eyes, he sighed harshly and pulled back from Elora. His hands fell from her face but he caught her hand again when she didn’t let go of him right away. Her brows were drawn slightly as she stared at him and he thought he saw disappointment on her face. He gave her a small tug and started toward the chopper. He couldn’t let go yet. She wasn’t coming with him so he couldn’t let go yet.

            He levered up into the chopper without letting go and turned to face her. Her expression was terrified as her loose hair whipped around her and he wished it wasn’t. Neither of them really knew what he was going to face back in Kirkwall and they were both scared.

            “Please come back,” she said, holding his gaze.

            Cullen nodded before flicking a look to the Templar that had followed them when they’d gone to talk to Fletcher. “Name and rank,” he demanded.

            “Knight-Templar Delrin Barris, Ser.”

            Pointing at Elora with his free hand, he said, “She’s your responsibility while I’m gone. Keep her safe, no matter what news comes out of Kirkwall. Do you understand?”

            He saw him glance between the both of them, surely questioning the fact that Elora was supposed to be going with him. “Yes, Ser,” he said sharply after a moment.

            Looking back at Elora, he let her hand go. His chest got tight when she squeezed him, unwilling to break contact yet. “Elora.”

            Her lips pursed together and more tears spilled over. “I will never forgive you if you don’t come back,” she said shortly.

            He watched as Barris caught her elbow when she let go of him, leading her back and away from the helicopter.

            “Ser, the Knight-Enchater-”

            “Is staying here,” Cullen said shortly, not looking away from the pair as they got clear of the helipad.

            When they didn’t say anything, Cullen strapped into the seat, taking the headset they gave to him. But his gaze stayed on Elora and he didn’t miss when she looked back at him. She stopped walking and watched as the helicopter started to lift off.

            _Please,_ he prayed, _don’t let this be the last time I see her. Maker, let me survive Kirkwall and come back to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my favourite chapter so far, hands down. Even if they're now separated, it's for the best and that means touching reunion right? You can thank Luci for that near kiss, that wasn't going to happen until she said hey maybe do this and my only consolation is that she knew it was coming and the chapter still hurt her when she read it.


	11. A Fool's Hope

            Wandering the halls of the bunker, Elora tried not to sigh. It was all she had seemed to do in the past week, wander and sigh. Not that there was much more than that to do. No one was running missions, no one was leaving the base. Everyone was waiting for word from Kirkwall, waiting for word from the Knight-Commanders to know what they were doing next. But every day that passed saw more tension in the Templars and mages stationed here as no word came in about what was happening.

            It was still leaps and bounds above her short stay at the Gallows. The Templars in Ferelden were much more respectful, at least treating her like a human being although there were some that she avoided. But there was something in the air here, something that felt as rotten as what the Gallows had been. She didn’t know what it was, no one would talk to her about it, not even Ser Barris.

            Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled faintly as she saw that he was following her. “You don’t have to stay back there,” she told him.

            “You don’t really want company right now, Knight-Enchanter. I understand that.”

            She stopped walking to look at him. He’d been nothing but polite since Cullen had left, answering her questions and making sure she was doing alright. But she was starting to think that he had taken Cullen’s words a little too much to heart. She was positive he had moved his bunk to the same wing of rooms hers was in. He was always the first person she saw in the morning and the last in the evening. Beyond the few mages she was sharing a room with, Ser Barris was the one she saw the most. Which wasn’t that bad. He’d never partnered with a mage, had always been stationed in a Barracks so he wasn’t completely sure of what to say or do around her. Any mage he had worked with was someone else’s but he was slowly learning.

            “Is something wrong?” he asked.

            A huffing laugh left her and she looked back at the hallway. What wasn’t wrong about the whole situation? Everything they heard about Kirkwall was second hand, all of it coming from the media that always blew things out of proportion. At least she sure hoped they were blowing it out of proportion because if not…. Then Kirkwall was an active warzone, reminiscent of Ages gone by. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. After the Fury Age had decimated the continent, all of the peoples of Thedas had gotten together and agreed that open warfare could not continue. Not if any of them wanted to survive.

            There were still skirmishes to be sure, Tevinter and the Qun still butting heads whenever they got the chance. But a full on war hadn’t happened. The Blight didn’t count even though that had nearly crippled Ferelden as badly as the Fury Age. But the country was recovering even if it did have the scars to show for it.

            “Knight-Enchanter?”

            “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m worried about what’s going on in Kirkwall. My….” Her what? She didn’t really have friends and her cousin wasn’t there. The only person she really cared about that was in Kirkwall was Cullen.

            “I’m sure the Knight-Captain will call you soon enough,” Barris said quietly. “If things are as hectic as we think, he’s probably just busy.”

            Or dead. Her heart leapt into her throat at that. _Maker, please,_ she silently begged. _Don’t let him be dead!_

            “Hey, easy,” Barris said, gripping her elbow as she started to shake. “He’s fine. He said he was going to come back didn’t he? He doesn’t seem like the type to break his promises.”

            He wasn’t but there wasn’t anyone there to watch his back. It was her job and she was here. And he was there with Templars like Meredith and Samson circling the Gallows, with mages like that Forceful fuckwit who thought so little of Templars and wouldn’t hesitate to stab one in the back. She pushed her trembling hand through her hair, hissing slightly as she caught on snarls. “I need to do something,” she whispered. “I’m going crazy sitting in here waiting for some sort of news, some sort of message from him. I can’t do this anymore.”

            “What did you want to do?”

            “Anything that gets me out of this bunker!”

            He hesitated and she knew why. No one was authorized to leave. There wasn’t a Knight-Commander at this Barracks, she hadn’t asked why in all the commotion, only Knight-Captain Fletcher. He ran the place well enough so she had figured there wasn’t need to have anyone higher up for a bunker well outside of Highever. But he followed orders to the letter and that meant everyone was staying put.

            “No, never mind,” she said, sighing. “I’m just getting cabin fever. I shouldn’t since I barely did anything for five years but after the last month…I don’t want to be idle anymore. But I’m not going to get anyone in trouble because I’m bored and anxious. Now I’m babbling so ignore me. Please.”

            She started down the hallway, wishing for the thousandth time that she had gone with Cullen. She’d still be completely terrified but at least she wouldn’t be as worried about him. They’d take care of each other, exactly like partners were supposed to do. She wouldn’t have to worry about whether he was eating or sleeping or taking care of himself. Because Maker knew she was stressing herself out over his wellbeing and she didn’t have a city falling to pieces around her. If it weren’t for Barris, she probably wouldn’t be eating either, her nerves too frazzled waiting for some sort of news to come in. Who did Cullen have to remind him of the little things?

            “There were reports of a freelance group about a half mile up the coast to the east,” Barris said behind her.

            Elora stopped abruptly. Freelance group? Her heart gave a hard thump in her chest. “No one investigated them?” she asked carefully, trying not to get her hopes up.

            “They were sighted only shortly before the orders came in to stay put,” he explained, walking up to her. “After that, most people forgot they were even there.”

            Maker help her, was it Vael’s peace corps group? Was Ionas only half a mile away from her? Was she really that close to her cousin? She shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s in direct violation of-”

            “My orders, from Knight-Captain Rutherford,” Barris interrupted, “who happens to outrank Knight-Captain Fletcher, were to ensure your safety and wellbeing. You haven’t been well since he left. If this will help you, it’s not disobeying orders.”

            “The orders to stay in the bunker didn’t come from Fletcher,” Elora reminded him. “They came from higher up.”

            “Knight-Enchanter,” he said quietly, “I know who my orders came from.”

            She stared at him, eyes darting over his face. She didn’t know him half as well as Cullen, didn’t know if she should really trust him not to get her into a ridiculous amount of trouble and abandon her to it. He didn’t seem the type but there was too much at risk. She had promised Cullen she wouldn’t do anything stupid while he was gone, that she would be here when he got back. “How would we even get out of here without being stopped?”

            He gave her a slight smile. “The Storm Coast used to be a dwarven port, forever and a half ago. There are pieces of tunnels under the bunker and most of the area. We can use one of them to get under the walls and out onto the coast.”

            “Aren’t they guarded or locked or watched?” she asked.

            “Not right now. Everyone is too busy trying to find out what’s happening in Kirkwall and watching the main entrances. Some of the more obscure ones have been left unattended.”

            “Why would you do this?” Elora whispered. “You don’t know me. Why would you even suggest this kind of risk? If we get caught, you could be severely punished for disobeying orders.”

            He gave her a faint smile. “So could you. I’m not content to just sit around here either,” he admitted. “I’d rather be out there, doing what Templars are supposed to instead of waiting for news. Maybe the group will have information that we haven’t heard yet.”

            Elora returned his smile. “To use to get us out of trouble if we get caught?”

            “To maybe give you a little peace of mind, Knight-Enchanter.”

            She shook her head. “Nope, if we’re doing this, you’re calling me Elora. We’re partners in his escapade and my partner calls me Elora.”

            He hesitated.

            “Do you call people on your team by their titles or by name?” she said gently. “Just look at it like that and really, I don’t outrank you or anything. It’s not breaking any rules.”

            Barris nodded slowly. “Alright, but so you know,” he added when she started to turn away, “as the mage of a Knight-Captain who carries the rank of Knight-Enchanter, you do outrank me.”

            Shit. Of course he knew. If she’d been anything but a Knight-Enchanter, he would have outranked her but her rank was Chantry given and placed her among the Templar ranks. Not high up, but Cullen’s position helped boost her own. “Well, then I’m ordering you to use my name.”

            He chuckled softly. “Get your gear. I’ll meet you by the southwest garage.”

            Elora nodded quickly and started off. She knew she should be a little more cautious in trusting him, wondered why she was trusting him at all. She could be walking into a bad situation. She could be walking into a trap. Where was her hesitation to trust people? Where were the walls she had built to keep people away from her, to keep herself safe?

            Cullen had knocked all of them down as he had cupped her face, holding her gaze and looking for all the world like he was going to kiss her.

            She staggered into the wall, pressing a hand to her chest as her heart started pounding for a completely different reason. She had been so devastated that he was leaving her behind, thought that he had been lying about being okay with what had happened in the morning and that he was getting rid of her. His repeated assurances that he was coming back, that he was leaving her to keep her safe had fallen on deaf ears until she had seen his expression shift. Her breath had caught as she had recognized his intent, had realised he was going to kiss her. Everything in her had screamed yes, had had her leaning forward, and had tipped her head back just that little bit more for him…until he hadn’t done it. They’d been interrupted and he’d left.

            She’d stood just off the launch pad, watching the helicopter until it was a speck in the distance and the tears had blurred her vision too much for her to see anything. She still hadn’t moved, praying frantically like she hadn’t in years, begging the Maker and Andraste to keep him safe, not for her sake but for his own.

            Closing her eyes for a long moment, Elora gathered herself, telling herself she needed to move, she needed to meet Barris at the garage. She was going to see if the group was her cousin’s, if she could finally have some news about him. It still took her another minute to move, her thoughts tangling up in concern for the two men in her life, neither of which she was entirely certain were safe. “Maker’s mercy,” she muttered. “How did you wind up like this, Trevelyan?”

            Asking herself that question didn’t help any since she didn’t have the answers but she did start walking again. It was a little after midday, so the other mages shouldn’t be in the room and she wouldn’t have to answer questions about why she was taking her mitts out when their training had been in the morning. She liked the girls and didn’t want to lie to them or get them tangled up in this nonsense. Because that’s what it really was. There was no guarantee that whoever was out there would know anything about her cousin, let alone be his actual group. It was a fool’s hope and she was an utter one for even thinking that this would get her closer to finding out what had happened to Ionas.

            She tucked her gloves into her belt, slipping vials into their holders on the leather straps around her legs. Her knife went in last, the small blade really not good for much, was more for collecting herbs and such, but it was sharp and could do enough damage to give her the time to regroup. Throwing a rain slicker on over her fatigues, she smoothed it down so it hid everything she had just equipped herself with. She was suddenly very thankful that the Storm Coast had done nothing but rain since she had gotten here a week ago. Which after the Mire she had never thought would happen yet here she was.

            Pulling her hair back as she left the room, she told herself that they would be okay, that they would get out and back before anyone knew they were missing. Most of the Templars didn’t know what to do with her since she wasn’t in their jurisdiction and she wasn’t even supposed to be there. So they left her alone to train and wander which meant she did know where the garage was.

            Of course, drills were being run in the yard and getting around all of them without alerting any of them to what she was doing took far more time than she would have liked. She wasn’t anywhere good at sneaking and she felt on the verge of panic every time one of them glanced at her. But she kept telling herself to be calm and keep walking. If anyone asked, she could say that she was going to the rover to find something she was missing. It was a simple lie and believable. More than that, it wouldn’t require an escort so she could keep going on her own.

             It was nearly twenty minutes after they had parted that Elora finally walked into the garage, muttering to herself. That had been ridiculous and far more stressful than she had wanted, but she was here now and Barris was…not. “Barris?” she called softly, wondering if she should have brought a flashlight. If she used magic, someone might come to the garage to investigate it. But where was-

            A scream caught in the back of her throat when a hand closed over her mouth and another wrapped around her torso to haul her backwards. But her panic ebbed almost instantly as fury rose in her, along with her mana.

            “Easy, Elora,” Barris breathed in her ear.  “Easy, it’s only me.”

            She sagged against him, willing her heart to stop racing. Why had he…? She froze when she heard the slight scrape of a boot against the floor, heard the soft breaths from across the garage. Someone else was here. She made a quiet noise, trying to ask a question without using words.

            But Barris didn’t have to answer her when she heard the low, pleasure filled moan ripple out through the silence. Oh. Oh!

            “Be quiet and they won’t know we were ever here,” he said softly.

            Elora nodded and placed her hand on his back when he let her go to start moving. Her hand quickly fisted in the material covering him so she didn’t lose him, her eyes slow to adjust to the lack of light. She stopped when he reached back to tap her thigh and waited while he tried to quietly open the entrance into the tunnel. Her ears stayed pricked even though she didn’t want to listen to the couple making out in the dark. It made her realise how long it had been since she had been in a relationship of any kind and that was depressing in itself. The least Cullen could have done was actually kiss her.

            “Come on.”

            She gave herself a shake. Not the time. Definitely not the time. She followed him into an even darker space, groping for the wall when he turned back to deal with the door. Her eyes stung when he flicked on a flashlight and she blinked quickly to clear them. Waving him on, she followed him as he set out. She was underground and heading out of the bunker to hopefully get answers about Ionas. How long had it been since she had been properly underground? Five years? She didn’t count those ruins out in the Hissing Wastes because they’d barely gone beneath the sands. But she hadn’t gone anywhere near anything even remotely underground since the accident, refusing to take the subway system Kirkwall had even if it was more reliable than the buses. Yet here she was…underground.

            “Don’t think about it,” she whispered, walking a little faster to stay close to Barris. “You’re okay. Nothing’s going to get you. You’ve got a Templar with you.”

            Except she had last time and look at how that had turned out. Holes in her memories and weeks laid up in the hospital as she had recovered from injuries she didn’t remember getting.

_“Timothie, please! What are you doing?! No! Please! Don’t!”_

            Her breath didn’t catch, it froze in her lungs as the panicked scream rippled through her mind. What was that? Was that her? Why would she say that? Had she said that? No, no, no, no, no! Don’t think about it! Don’t!

            “I grew up near Lake Calenhad.”

            Elora blinked at Barris’ voice. “What?” she croaked.

            “I’m the second son of a minor bann,” he continued. “I chose to become a Templar because I thought it was the best I could do with my life. My father and brother both are proud of what I’ve accomplished.”

            She focused on his voice, on the things he was saying, to push down the surge of terror she was feeling. “My family doesn’t even know I work with the Templars,” she whispered. Which was a shame since working for and joining the Chantry was so big in the Trevelyan family. Her older brother and one of Ionas’ were both Templars and there were handfuls of second and third cousins that had joined the Chantry in some fashion. But, since she was a mage, her being a part of the Order in any fashion wouldn’t mean much. It could even be seen as blasphemous.

            “Shame for them. I don’t talk to my family as much as I should and if the events in Kirkwall aren’t resolved, it’ll mean war, possibly on a continental front. Family is too important to let little things like being busy stand in the way of keeping in contact with them.”

            “Unless they don’t want you.”

            “Hard to imagine anyone not wanting you around.”

            “Noble family, Barris,” she sighed. “Mage. Oil and water are more compatible than those two.”

            He was quiet for a long moment and the only sound was their steps on the stone. “True I suppose,” he said quietly, “but being a mage doesn’t mean that you stop being their daughter or sister.”

            It did to every Trevelyan except Ionas and it had separated him further from their family. But she loved him all the more for it. After everything, he still stood with her and refused to be budged.

            “There, the exit’s up ahead.”

            Elora was proud of herself for not pushing past Barris and running to it. She kept herself behind him, providing support as he checked the exit. “Why isn’t it blocked?” she asked quietly when he waved her on.

            “Templars usually patrol it and boarding it up in any way is just telling people that there’s something on the other end looking into.”

            Made sense, she supposed. It was lightly raining as they stepped out so she pulled up her hood and quietly said, “Thank you for that.”

            He gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome.”

            They fell into silence as he led her up the beach and they hadn’t gone far before Elora pulled on her mitts. She felt better with them on and this way she could charge them up before they walked into anything unpleasant. Hopefully they wouldn’t since the Templars at the bunker would know they’d used mana and lyrium and it would be a million times harder getting back in without a slew of questions. Sparks still started jumping between her fingers as nerves filled her as they walked.

            If Ionas was there, what was she going to say to him? If he wasn’t there, what was she going to do?

            Elora nearly tripped over her own feet when she felt the ground rumble under them and she stopped abruptly. “That wasn’t normal,” she whispered.

            Barris nodded sharply. “Magic is being used up ahead.”

            Her stomach sank. Sebastian didn’t have any mages in his group, opting for a medic that used practical means for healing. Odds were the group they were going to find wasn’t his unless they were fighting mages which was highly unlikely. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

            “What do you want to do?” he threw back at her.

            She fumbled for a moment before shaking herself. “We should assess the situation,” she said quietly, “but not engage unless necessary.”

            He nodded again, his gun in hand as he started forward.

            Maker, she wasn’t suited for giving orders. It was easier to follow them but she was the one that had decided to actually come out here. If anything went wrong, she would shoulder the blame for it. But she needed to make sure nothing went wrong.

            Following Barris up a hill, she grimaced slightly as they crept through the grass to the top of it, the rain soaking into her pants. But she forgot about it as she caught sight of what was happening on the other side.

            It wasn’t Sebastian’s group, that much was clear from the start as she saw magic being thrown from both sides and none of them were wearing anything related to Starkhaven’s livery. But she didn’t recognize either of the sigils they were wearing. The disappointment she felt didn’t last for very long as she gaped at one of the fighters who stood a full head and shoulders above the rest.

            “That’s a qunari,” she squeaked.

            Barris grunted softly beside her and she could practically feel the lyrium screaming through him in response to all of the magic being thrown around in the battle.

            Elora stared in horrified awe as she watched the horned giant practically bowl over everyone that came at him. If he was using a weapon, she couldn’t see it from here and that was all the more terrifying. Who fought mages with his bare hands? Her eyes widened as she watched him grasp someone’s head before she quickly shut them, not wanting to see what was about to happen.

            “What do you want to do?” Barris asked lowly.

            Peeking at him, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know what they could be walking into. A part of her wanted to side with the mages, but she knew that was simply because she herself had magic. The other group, the qunari’s group, were probably the freelancers they had originally come to check out and attacking them hadn’t been part of the original plan. From here, they didn’t have any answers about what was actually happening but-

            “Vint bastards!” a voice bellowed.

            Elora’s head snapped around at the shout. Vint bastards? The mages were from Tevinter? What were they doing in Ferelden?

            “Elora?”

            If she hadn’t encountered a Tevinter mage in the Fallow Mire, she could brush this off. But it just couldn’t be a coincidence. She exhaled sharply and said, “Assist the qunari but remain cautious.”

            He grunted and pushed himself up, swinging his gun up to sight it.

            Elora covered her ears but didn’t look away as she heard the crack from the rifle and watched one of the mages near the qunari drop immediately. She saw his head jerk around to where they were and she instinctively gathered her magic, ready to shield them if he directed his men against them. But he didn’t, simply went back to the fight.

            Letting go of the breath she was holding, she pushed herself up so she could better survey what was going on. Her fingers rubbed together slightly before she threw barriers around the freelancers within range. If it surprised them, they didn’t react, continuing their fight.

            “Get down,” Barris snapped, throwing himself over her before she could even move.

            His weight drove the air from her lungs and she briefly saw stars as her chin connected with the ground. But she still felt the bolt rip through the space above them and knew she wouldn’t be able to shield them if it managed to connect with them. She bit her lip as she felt the electricity ripple over her skin, her hair standing on end before it vanished abruptly.

            Barris rolled off of her, rifle back up and scanning the battle before a shot rang out.

            Giving her head a shake, she pushed herself up and saw that the fight was essentially over. The mages were heaps on the ground, their magic still lingering in the air. But even though their threat was gone, she could see that the qunari was looking at them, that the rest of his group was still on high alert as they looked at them.

            “Are we going down there?” Barris asked lowly, his rifle still trained on them.

            Elora took a deep breath. “Would be rude not to,” she said, pushing herself to her feet. “Put the gun down, Barris.”

            She thought she heard him suck on his cheek as she started down the hill but his steps followed her.

            Keeping her hands where they could see them, Elora told herself this wasn’t a dumb idea. It wasn’t stupid…even though it was probably just as stupid as her decision to light the brazier out in the Hissing Wastes. Cullen was going to throttle her if he heard about this. She stopped when she saw them tense up and kept her hands visible. Her gaze didn’t move from the qunari, hoping he was the leader, that she wasn’t making a mistake about that. “Hello,” she said quietly.

            “Afternoon,” he answered. “Thanks for the help.”

            Her head dipped slightly, although she didn’t think they had done much.

            His gaze moved from her to Barris before it came back. “Didn’t expect to see anyone from the Barracks,” he continued. “Thought you lot were on lock down because of that shitstorm in Kirkwall.”

            “We are,” Elora admitted.

            “So you’re disobeying orders to do what?”

            “We came to talk to you,” she said, “to see who you were.”

            “Been here for over a week and now you’re doing that?”

            Elora stared at him for a long moment before she made a snap decision. “There weren’t orders to come out here,” she said lowly.

            He studied her, his single eye giving nothing away about him. “You came out here with only a single Templar to contact a group you didn’t know was friendly or not?”

            She spread her hands, not saying anything.

            “I’m not sure if that’s incredibly dumb or incredibly brave,” he snorted. “I’m the Iron Bull and these are the Bull’s Chargers.”

            Elora perked up slightly. She’d heard that name before, Ionas had mentioned them in passing. He’d said that of all the mercenary groups he’d ever encountered with the peace corps, the Bull’s Chargers were the most professional group he’d met, even more so than Vael’s. Reaching out to take the hand he was holding out to her, she said, “Knight-Enchanter Elora Trevelyan and Knight-Templar Delrin Barris.”

            He shook her hand slowly, his lips pursing. “Trevelyan?” he repeated. “As in Ella Treveylan?”

            Her heart leapt into her throat. There was only one person he would have ever met that would call her Ella. “You know Ionas,” she said quickly.

            “Yeah, I know him, crazy bastard.”

            “You haven’t…seen him lately have you?” she asked hesitantly.

            He shook his head slowly. “Ran into Vael’s boys a couple weeks ago, but I didn’t see him there,” he apologized.

            Her heart sank and she took her hand back. “Oh. Thank you.”

            “You haven’t heard from him?”

            Elora sighed. “No,” she admitted before looking back at him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing on the Storm Coast?”

            “Fighting Vints apparently,” Iron Bull said, looking at the bodies.

            “There’s the better question,” Barris muttered behind her. “What are Tevinter mages doing this far south?”

            “Been sightings of them all across Ferelden and Orlais,” Iron Bull said, waving off his group. “No idea what they’re doing yet.”

            Pursing her lips, Elora wished she had gotten more answers. Instead she had more questions now. “Do any of your team need healing?” she asked politely.

            Iron Bull laughed softly. “Don’t see that often, Chantry mage offering to help a group of mercs.”

            “I’m here,” she said as if that was the answer to everything.

            “So you are. But we’ve got Stitches so we’ll be alright.”

            She nodded slowly, rubbing her fingers together absently. Tevinter mages. Qunari mercenaries. Ionas missing. War in Kirkwall. What in the Void was everything coming to?

            “We should head back, Elora, if we’re not needed here,” Barris said quietly. “Even if they don’t send anyone, someone in the bunker will know that this fight happened and we don’t want to be caught out here if someone does come to look into it.”

            “Alright,” she murmured, looking up at Iron Bull. “It was nice to meet you and thank you for telling me about Ionas.”

            “Didn’t tell you much,” he admitted, “but I’ll tell you what, you want more info about him, I’ll get a hold of you if you’ll give me your number.”

            Her lips quirked slightly. “Can’t say that anyone’s used my cousin to try to get my number.”

            He threw back his head and laughed. “Not what I meant, Trev,” he chuckled. “But I’m not overly opposed to the idea.”

            She held her hands up and took a small step back, shaking her head. Oh, why had she opened her mouth?!

            He grinned at her, clearly knowing she had put her foot in her mouth. “I won’t use it inappropriately. Promise.”

            She wasn’t sure she believed that but she still took the phone he held out to her. “Thanks,” she said softly as she quickly put her number in before giving it back.

            “Can’t promise I’ll find anything, but you’ll be the first to know if I do.”

            She nodded, turning as she heard Barris make a quiet noise. “It was nice to meet you, Iron Bull.”

            “Same to you, Trev. You keep your head down and don’t do anything dumb like your cousin.”

            Grimacing, she realised that she had done something dumb in coming out here. But it was done with and maybe she’d be able to get more information about Ionas. Like why he wasn’t with the peace corps anymore. The thoughts ate at her as they made their way back, circling and only growing worse the more she thought about it. Where was he if he wasn't with Sebastian? They'd been friends since they were boys, since Ionas had been sent to Starkhaven as a ward of the Vael’s, attending the same boarding school and just always together. So what had happened to change that? Had it changed? Was he on a separate mission? Why wasn't he answering his phone?

           She barely even noticed as they went back through the tunnel, too caught up in her own mind to be scared of it. Which was exactly why she walked into Barris.

           He reached back to steady her and said, “Do you hear that?”

           Frowning, Elora stopped silently berating herself and actually listened. There was a lot of noise coming from the other side of the tunnel’s entrance, even muted she could hear the sounds. “What's going on?”

           “Come on,” he said, leading her out of the tunnel and back into the garage.

           There was no one in the building but as soon as they stepped outside they couldn't miss the crowd gathering in the yard. They glanced at one another before moving over to it. Elora caught Barris’ arm when he made to move further forward, shaking her head. She didn't want to be anywhere near the front of whatever this was because it felt like a mob just waiting to happen.

           “The Chantry has lost control of the mages and Kirkwall is proof enough of that! They cannot control them and that duty falls to us!”

           Well that didn't sound good. Squinting, she saw a man standing on the hood of a vehicle, speaking to the group. “Who is that?” she whispered.

           A Templar in front of them glanced back at her. “Lord Seeker Lucius,” he answered. “He got here half an hour ago.”

           The Lord Seeker? Elora’s stomach flipped a couple of times. She was sure she had heard Cassandra muttering one night in the Mire about how no one could find him, that he wasn't answering messages and it was like he had disappeared. For him to just randomly show up here? It couldn't mean anything good.

           “Do not put your faith in the Chantry, do not put faith in the peace talks the Divine is proposing. There can never be peace with the mages!”

           “Maker’s breath, what is he even saying?” Barris muttered beside her.

           Nothing good. Elora felt like she was going to be sick. Was this what Cassandra had been talking about? Was this what she had said was coming?

           “Mages killed Knight-Commander Meredith in Kirkwall! Will you let this offence lie unpunished?”

           “Fuck,” she whispered. It wasn't safe here for mages. She could hear the mutterings among the Templars, could almost feel the entire group of them falling for what the Lord Seeker was saying. “Barris-“

           “I'm not going to turn on you,” he said lowly. “I don't take orders from the Lord Seeker.”

           Her relief was short lived as she saw someone rushing up to where they were standing. “Trevelyan?”

           “Yes?”

           “Call for you,” the Templar said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at one of the buildings.

           She glanced at the crowd before following, wanting some serious distance between her and them. Barris came with her but he was silent as they went inside, away from the noise. Going to the phone pointed at, she took a deep breath before picking it up. “Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan,” she said as it connected.

           A deep sigh came from the other side. _“Elora, it's me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But who is me???
> 
> I need to write faster, I only have one more chapter written out and next week is going to come faster than I would like D:


	12. Kirkwall

 

            Slumping into a chair in the room he was using as a temporary bunk, Cullen tried to ignore the way his head was throbbing. He knew it wouldn’t go away anytime soon and he wished…Maker, no. Elora couldn’t be here, no matter how badly his head ached. Kirkwall was a mess and he didn’t want her anywhere near it, was so glad he had left her in the Storm Coast. Even if her tear stained face was the only thing he could see when he thought about her, she was better off there.

            Because he had never been this exhausted before. He had never felt so bone weary and ready to drop in his life. Not even in Kinloch had he felt like this.

            Jerking his gloves of, he let them drop as he rubbed his face harshly. He’d only been here for a week. Seven days. And in those seven days he’d seen the entire city come completely unglued. There was the rubble in the streets from the Chantry explosion, the riots rising up through Darktown, the masses hiding in Lowtown which wasn’t equipped to handle that many people. There was the utter mess of the Gallows, Knight-Commander Tomas’ death that had far too much suspicion surrounding it, Meredith finally going completely insane and turning on everyone.

            _Chaos. Absolute chaos. Why are you following Meredith? Why are you following a woman who’s judgement you don’t know if you can trust? Shaking the thoughts from him as he stepped into the Gallows, Cullen felt his stomach sink as he saw the death all around him. Apprentices, recruits, too many still bodies that never should have been there._

_“And here you are!”_

_Forcing himself to relax his grip on his gun, Cullen watched as the First Enchanter came down the main steps, already speaking before he got anywhere close to Meredith. Maker, he’d only been gone a little over a week. How had everything fallen into chaos so damn quickly?! How had everything gone so wrong in only seven days?_

_He watched in growing horror as Orsino and Meredith’s talk quickly dissolved, people picking sides in a war neither of them was going to win. Sweet Maker, how had this happened?!_

_“Prepare your people. The rest of the Order is crossing the harbour.”_

_Cullen stared as Orsino started away but it wasn’t the elf that had his attention, it was the woman watching him. Hawke. Maker, had Olivia sided with the mages? Of course she had. She had no love for the Templars, no matter how friendly she had been with him. They were still on opposite sides of the line. She was looking at him sadly, clearly not wanting this anymore than he did, but helpless to do anything but try to survive what was about to happen._

_“Knight-Captain?”_

_Looking at the speaker, he wanted to swear as he saw Olivia starting up the stairs to follow Orsino. He didn’t want to fight her. He didn’t want to fight these mages. They hadn’t had anything to do with the attack on the Chantry! The mage responsible was missing and yet they were punishing the entire school?_

            Covering his mouth, he fought the urge to vomit. It didn’t matter how many times he bathed, he was never going to get the scent of blood off of his skin. It was soaked into his clothes, clinging to his hair, under his nails, it was everywhere and he didn’t know how to get rid of it. Or maybe he wouldn’t ever be able to. Maybe that was his punishment for not standing up to Meredith sooner.

            Cullen let out a shaking breath, leaning forward until his arms were resting on his legs and his head was bowed over them. He’d tried…Maker, he had tried to make things right but he hadn’t been able to. Meredith…there was nothing that could have saved her and she had only made everything worse. But that thing she had become?

            He was never going back to the Gallows. There was nothing that could ever make him go back to the Gallows ever again. Not when he knew that thing was waiting there for anyone that went there.

            His stomach heaved and he wondered if he could make it to the bathroom before he threw up. Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm himself down. There was no reason to go back to the Gallows. It was too badly damaged to do anything there and the Barracks was actually in the city, actually where people needed the Templars to be. But he’d barely spent any time here, trying to coordinate relief efforts in the city and only coming back here to collapse into a completely fitful sleep. If he slept at all.

            He’d expected today to be the same as all the others, desperately trying to keep every person in Kirkwall safe when he didn’t even know where the enemies truly were, who they even were.

            Lifting his head, he stared across the room at where the phone was sitting on a small table. The lines had gone down shortly after he’d gotten here and he knew crews were trying to get them back up, to reestablish contact with people outside of the city. He hadn’t been told if they had succeeded, had been out of the base for the whole of the day, his radio turned off as he ran a mission that no one else had been privy to.

            Pushing out of the chair, he walked across the room and leaned back against the wall as he lifted the receiver. His eyes closed as he heard the dial tone, relief flooding him. Punching in a series of numbers, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited for someone to pick up on the other end. He needed this. Maker, please let him have this. After everything that had happened, please let him just have this one good thing.

            _“Storm Coast Outpost,”_ a voice said shortly.

            “Knight-Captain Cullen Rutherford, stationed at Kirkwall Barracks,” he said quietly.

            There was a long pause on the other end, no doubt because they didn’t believe him. _“Verification code?”_

            “Honnleath fifteen fifteen.”

The pause was only long enough for the code to be punched in before there was a swift inhale. _“Maker’s breath, Knight-Captain, it’s good to hear from you! We haven’t heard anything from the city since the Chantry was destroyed!”_

            “Lines went down,” he said, rubbing his face slowly again. “We’re trying to get them up but they’re shoddy at best. Our efforts are more concentrated on the people.”

            “ _Of course, of course. Did you want to talk with Knight-Captain Fletcher?”_

            “No. Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan. Find her and put her on the phone.”

            There was another long pause but whatever the Templar thought, he wisely kept to himself. _“I’ll find her.”_

            Cullen nodded absently as he was put on hold. The static noise was not reassuring and he was scared that he’d get dropped before she picked up the phone. He didn’t want that. He needed to talk to her, needed to know that she was okay. He needed to know that someone he knew was alright, that he had made a decision and it had been the right one.

_“I can’t stay here, Cullen. I need to get out of Kirkwall before they turn on me. I know I should stay and help, but I can’t.”_

_“Hawke, what are you asking me to do?”_

_“No one is getting out of the city without Templar approval. Not even the Champion. Cullen, please, I have to get out.”_

            His knees wobbled and he had to lock them to stay upright. He was so bloody tired. But he couldn’t sleep without seeing everything that he didn’t want to. How was he supposed to rest when-

            _“Knight-Enchanter Trevelyan.”_

            His eyes closed as her accent rolled over him and he gave up trying to stay upright. Slumping to the floor, Cullen sighed deeply. “Elora, it’s me,” he whispered.

            He heard her inhale swiftly and then there was shouting from the other end.

            “Elora?” he asked quickly, panic swelling in him as he realised it had been her name that was being shouted.

            _“I’m fine. I’m fine, Barris. I’m fine!”_

            “What happened?” Cullen demanded.

            _“I missed the chair,”_ she whispered.

            He laughed weakly. So they were both on the floor? “Oh.”

            _“You’re alive,”_ Elora said in a tiny voice.

            Maker, the happiness in her voice, the joy at him being alive. “I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. The phones went down almost immediately and we just got them up.” He paused for a moment. “The call might drop,” he apologized.

            _“Oh.”_

            He didn’t like it either. He wanted to talk to her for as long as he could without having to worry about the conversation being cut short by forces outside of their control. “I’m sorry.”

            _“No, no, I’m glad you called. I’ve been so worried, Cullen.”_

            His eyes popped open for a second before closing again. She always said his name when she was stressed and would go back to his title soon enough. It was nothing to get excited about. “Are things okay there?”

_“Calm for the most part. At least they were. There’s…Lord Seeker Lucius is here and he’s saying, he’s telling everyone that mages killed the Knight-Commanders.”_

            Covering his eyes, Cullen muttered, “Meredith most likely killed Tomas for insubordination and Meredith turned into a…some kind of lyrium statue.”

            He heard Elora’s breath catch again. _“What?”_

            “Both of the Knight-Commanders are dead but not at the hands of a mage from the Gallows. But with both of them gone, I’m expected to handle everything.”

            _“Oh, Cullen, is that why you sound so tired?”_

            He was tired. He was so very tired. He was stretched too thin and it had only been seven days. “There’s a lot to do, Elora.”

            _“Are you sleeping? Eating? Taking lyrium?”_

            His lips twitched slightly. Barely five minutes on the phone and already she was trying to make sure he was doing okay. “I’ll be alright,” he promised. Of course, on any given day, he wasn’t doing at least two of those. Some days it was all three.

            _“I don’t think I believe you.”_

            “Are they treating you well there?” he asked, shifting the topic off of himself.

            _“More than well,”_ she said after a moment. _“Barris is a good man and a better Templar.”_

            “Good. That’s good.”

            She didn’t say anything for a long moment and all he could hear was her breathing. If he was the pretending type, it would be easy to believe that she was in the same room as him. Maybe on the bed beside him while they talked quietly about their day. They wouldn’t be in Kirkwall though, maybe in the back of the rover again, maybe with a little more space, maybe not. Maybe he could wake up with her in his arms again.

            _“Cullen, how bad is it?”_ Elora said softly.

            His breath caught, his throat going dry. How bad? Was there anything in this city that wasn’t bad?

            _“Tell me?”_

            The scent of blood rose up around him. It filled his nose and made him gag. It was on his skin. He was never going to get it off. Wake up with her in his arms? How could he do that when his hands were soaked in blood? How could he look her in the eye when he knew people had died because he hadn’t been able to stand up to Meredith sooner?

          _“Cullen?”_

            Maker take him! He shouldn't have called her, not when he was still filthy from the day. -But would be ever be clean? Would he ever be able to clean ten years of

         _“Cullen, honey, you've got to breathe_. _I can't hear you breathing. Please can you breathe for me?”_

            It took a few minutes with her gently talking to him before he could fully take a deep breath and start breathing regularly. There were spots in front of his eyes as he stared at the floor, sucking in as much as he could.

            _“I’d feel better if I was there to help you,”_ she said softly.

            “No,” Cullen said sharply, even if he felt the same. “You’re better there. Trust me, Elora, you’re better off there.”

            _“I would still feel better if I was with you.”_

            His head thumped back against the wall and he sighed. “Kirkwall isn’t safe for mages.” Or anyone for that matter. “You’re better there.”

            _“Here, where we’ve got the Lord Seeker preaching about how mages killed the Grand Cleric and the Knight-Commanders?”_

            “Why would he say that?” Cullen growled, irritation welling in him. “Communications just went back up. There’s no way he could have known what happened here unless he spoke to someone. All of the Seekers are gone, were gone before I got here, and after the Gallows everyone has been telling me everything that’s been happening. And I haven’t talked to any Lord Seeker.”

            _“I don’t know,”_ she said softly, _“but he’s whipping these Templars into a frenzy, Cullen. I’m not so sure anywhere is safe for mages anymore.”_

            Dread coiled in his stomach. “How many are in the bunker?”

            _“Handful at best beyond myself. Spirit Healers for the most part, a Force mage.”_

            Nothing that would be able to hold its own against a mass of Templars that could turn on them at any moment. She wasn’t safe there. Maker, she wasn’t safe there, but where was there that would be safe? He should have brought her. He should have kept her close to him, where he could keep her safe. Even if Kirkwall wasn’t safe.

            _“Hawke. Hawke, wait!” Cullen said sharply, struggling to keep up with her as she practically ran through the backstreets._

_Icy blue eyes looked back at him. “We need to move, Cullen,” she said frantically. “I don’t know how long that gate is going to stay open and, Knight-Captain or not, they might not let me through if we miss the time.”_

_“I know, you told me, but where are you even going to go? The people here could benefit from your support.”_

_She shook her head frantically, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. “I’m up on a pedestal already. It won’t take them long to knock it down, to demand their pound of flesh from me. I never asked for any of this and as much as Kirkwall has done for me, it’s done more to hurt me than anything else.”_

_Cullen sighed and pushed his hand through his hair. “You barely even have anything on you to survive with,” he murmured, looking at the single bag she had strapped to her back._

_“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, waving a hand. “I’m a survivor.”_

_Wasn’t that the truth. “Fine,” he muttered. “You said it was through one of the gates in-” He stopped abruptly when he heard a tiny noise, frowning as he looked over the area. “What was that?” he asked, his hand going to his gun automatically. There had been too many muggings, the people on the streets turning on one another instead of helping each other out._

_“What?”_

_The edge of panic in her voice had him looking back at her, staring as he saw that one of her hands was pressing against her chest. Or rather the odd lump under her coat. “Hawke.”_

_“Cullen, please, we need to move and-” She broke off as he reached out and pulled her coat open._

_He couldn’t breathe. He really couldn’t breathe. His brows drew together as he stared down at the head of dark hair resting against her chest. “Hawke,” he whispered when the baby made a soft snuffling noise. She`d had a baby? When had she had time to have a baby?_

_Hawke’s eyes were full of tears as he met her gaze. “Please, Cullen, we can’t stay here,” she breathed, gripping his forearms. “I don’t care what you think about me and what I’ve done, but Nessa…Nessa is innocent in all of this. She shouldn’t be punished for my mistakes.”_

_“Cullen?”_

He gave himself a shake. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

            _“Cullen, please try to get more rest,”_ she whispered. _“You’re going to kill yourself if you take on too much.”_

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “What did you say?”

            _“I can’t stay here. I know you told me to stay here, but I don’t think I can.”_

            “Elora, where would you even go?” Cullen asked, slumping further. “The schools are falling apart, the Templars are losing their minds, and everyone is being ridiculous. I don’t know if there’s a safe haven anywhere for anyone.”

            _“Cullen, you’re breaking up,”_ Elora said frantically and his heart leapt into his throat. _“What did you say?”_

            Maker, no! He didn’t want to stop talking to her! “Elora, listen to me,” he said quickly, his heart pounding. “Keep your head down and keep close to Barris!”

            _“Cullen, I can’t…did you say?!”_

            “Please, be safe,” he stressed. “Please stay with Barris and I’ll come back as soon as I can!”

            _“Cullen…t hear you! Do…go!”_

            He squeezed his eyes shut as the call kept breaking, hating the panic in her voice. “I’ll come back,” he promised. “Elora, I promise, I’ll-Shit!” The phone creaked in his grip when he heard it go dead in the middle of his sentence.

            Glaring at the phone, he briefly considered throwing it across the room. Of course it had dropped. Of course the call had actually dropped! Letting go of the receiver, he buried his face in his hands, pushing his palms into his eyes. They’d barely gotten to talk! What had they even really talked about? Nothing important, nothing that mattered.

            But if he was honest, he had just wanted to hear her voice and he hadn’t cared what they’d talked about. He’d just needed to know that she was actually okay…and she wasn’t. But she was smart and Barris was there as well. She’d sounded like she liked him so at least there was that. At least she wasn’t alone.

            Lifting his head when someone knocked on the door, he briefly considered pretending not to be there. But as the knock came again, he pushed himself off of the floor and crossed to it. “Yes?” he asked when the door was open.

            “Ser, there’s a Knight-Captain here to see you. Says he’s from Starkhaven.”

            Cullen frowned at that. “What do you mean from Starkhaven? The roads are closed.”

            The man spread his hands. “I’m only telling you what I was told, Ser. But he wants to talk to you specifically.”

            Sighing, Cullen nodded. “I’ll be right there. Oh, Templar,” he called as the man started away, “get someone to get the phone lines reconnected. We need them up and running.”

            “They just fixed them,” he grumbled. “Did they drop already? Shoddy fucking work, told them to do it right the first time so this wouldn’t happen. I’ll get it fixed, Ser. I promise it’ll be fixed.”

            Closing his door, Cullen stripped out of his jacket and shirt. It wouldn’t overly help because he felt like he could smell the blood clinging to his skin but it was all he could do for now. He paused for a moment to put the receiver back on the base and he stared at it for a long moment. He’d made it through the week reassuring himself that she was alright, that Elora was better off anywhere but here. And a part of him was glad for it, knew it had been the right decision; the rest of him was screaming at him for being a fool.

            He could have kept her safe. Most of the templars had disappeared from the city before he had even gotten here, more of them trickling through the cracks after that shit show with Meredith. He’d been trying to get people to look into it but there were so many other things that kept demanding his attention, like the people of Kirkwall that needed food and shelter. They came before templars who had deserted.

            Shoving the tail ends of his shirt into the waistband of his pants, he pushed those thoughts aside. He couldn’t change anything now. Elora was still in Ferelden, he was in Kirkwall. With any luck, he’d be here another week and then he could go back to her, could put this behind him. He knew things were bad between the Chantry and the Circles, but surely they would send a replacement Knight-Commander and he could be allowed to leave the city. He’d do what he could, but he was leaving this city.

            He slipped out of his room and walked down the hallway. The other templar hadn’t told him where the Knight-Captain was waiting but Cullen knew where he’d be. There was only one place in the Barracks that they were putting visitors, mostly because they weren’t getting visitors.  Winding through the halls, he made his way toward the holding area at the front of the Barracks. It didn’t take him long, most of the templars were still on duty out in the city, trying to help as much as they could and maintain the peace. But that was getting harder with each day that passed.

            Taking a deep breath when he reached the closed door, he held it for a second and let it out slowly. Once he felt as settled as he was ever going to be in this city, he opened the door. The man inside looked up immediately, pushing away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “I’m sorry about keeping you waiting and the accommodations,” he said before he was even fully in the room. “We’re running out of space.”

            The man waved it off. “You’ve got bigger things to think about right now, Knight-Captain,” he said.

            Only his few encounters with Sebastian helped Cullen sort through the brogue that rolled out of the man’s mouth. “I know you’re from Starkhaven but I wasn’t given a name.”

            “Rylen,” he supplied.

            Cullen nodded absently. He was sure he’d heard the name before, heard about the steady work the Knight-Captain had done further north. “We can talk somewhere else,” he said, waving the other man to follow him. “It’s not overly pleasant in here.”

            “Not overly pleasant anywhere in the city near as I could tell.”

            “Kirkwall has definitely seen better days,” Cullen sighed. “Although I’m not sure it’s by much.”

            “Qunari, blood magic, apostates, Knight-Commanders gone mad. Half the things we heard about the city we thought were just rumours or wild accusations but now that I’m here I think most of them undersold what was happening.”

            Maker, he was tired of all of this. The ten years he had spent here felt like they had aged him twenty instead. There wasn’t anything good in this city, there wasn’t anything keeping him here when the only good thing was back in Ferelden.

            “You’ve done good work so far,” Rylen said as Cullen led him into the former Knight-Commander’s office. “You’re just stretched a little too thin but that’s why we, me and the lads from Starkhaven, are here. We might not be from the city but there was no point in us staying up there when you need all the hands you can get.”

            “How did you even get here?” Cullen asked, leaning back against the desk. He refused to sit in that chair. He was not going to sit in that chair any time soon. He didn’t care if they were using the office as a central hub to receive orders. He wasn’t the Knight-Commander and he wasn’t sitting in that damn chair.

            “Orders came in from Orlais to provide what support we could. Half of our templars have gone missing but I brought those that were willing to come since we didn’t have a school to watch and Vael’s militia have a handle on the city. We weren’t doing anything beyond waiting for orders so if we can help, why wouldn’t we come?”

            That wasn’t what he’d asked. “Who did the orders come from?”

            “Knight-Commander didn’t say, just told us that those that wanted to go could go.”

            Great. More questions and not enough answers. “Well, you’re right. We can use all the help we can get,” Cullen sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. “But why hasn’t anyone in Val Royeaux tried to get a hold of us directly. Even with the phone lines down, there are other means they could have used. We need a Knight-Commander here to help restore order.”

            Rylen gave him a funny look. “How long have you been holed up in here?”

            “Not long, a week.” Maker, had it only been a week? He felt like he had never left Kirkwall ever.

            “You haven’t heard then?”

            “Rylen, I am tired,” Cullen said shortly. “I’ve got a city falling apart around me and templars, or what’s left of them, waiting for a Knight-Commander to show up to try to put things right.”

            Rylen made a face, looking away for a moment. “If you’re waiting for a Knight-Commander to show up, it’s going to be a while.”

            “Why?”

            “My orders, Ser, were to report to Knight-Commander Rutherford so I guess they promoted you when you weren’t looking.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch as I ever so slowly bring all the characters together! Because I am bringing them all together because everyone lives and you can't tell me otherwise! And also because Rylen. I don't need to say more than that honestly.


	13. Haven

             Staring up the mountain, Elora could admit she had never felt so small in her entire life. She knew she was short and had been short her entire life. But standing at the foot of that mountain, staring up at where the Temple of Sacred Ashes was nestled, she felt very small. It wasn’t even just the mountains even though the Frostbacks were certainly impressive. It was the entire presence of the area. There was something on the air here, something old, something that not even time and the presence of people had been able to destroy.

            She knew the stories of how Haven and the Temple had been found by the Hero of Ferelden nearly ten years ago. She knew that the ashes of Andraste were said to have been found, guarded by the one of the strangest cults that had ever been, and that they had vanished. She’d barely been graduated from the Academy when the story had come out and she’d sat in front of the television with all the other mages in her dorm, utterly enraptured by the story coming out. Of course, it had also coincided with the broadcast of the royal wedding and they’d originally been flipping between the two channels before giving up to watch the nuptials instead.

            She still didn’t regret that decision to this day, sighing over the fairy tale wedding whenever she thought about it and simply watching a rerun of the special about the Temple after the wedding was over.

            Still staring up at the mountain, she just couldn’t shake the sense of awe it inspired in her. “Have you ever been here before?”

            “No. I don’t think you have to whisper though. We’re not actually in a Chantry.”

            Elora gave Barris a glare and just held herself back from giving him a shove to go with it. “Is that something they teach templars growing up?”

            “What’s that?” he asked, shouldering his bag.

            “To think they’re funny.”

            He snorted and shook his head at her. “Come on, Elora. We’d better get to the bunks they assigned us. I need to sleep for a bit.”

            Her face twisted and she looked back at the mountain. It was an amazing view and one she was never going to forget. She just wished the circumstances for coming here had been different.

            But Cullen had said that Haven was safe, for anyone. This was the best place she could be. She trusted him and he had told her to come here. She’d been hesitant when they’d gotten to the base of the mountain and seen all the soldiers, but they’d gotten through easily enough. In fact, they’d been eagerly accepted when the soldiers had learned that they were a templar and mage. She had a funny feeling that they might have just been conscripted to whatever military organization was in charge here.

Throwing one more look at the towering peak, she started walking again. She was tired as well but she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to sleep. She was too wound up. Had been wound up since the call with Cullen had dropped a week ago. She’d tried several times to call back before she’d been told she couldn’t use the phones for personal reasons and she needed to stop. So she had tried to call his cell phone but there hadn’t been any answer and she’d been forced to leave a message for yet another person.

            Her steps faltered as she thought about him. Another week with nothing. Maker, worry was eating at her because no one was getting anything out of the city. At least nothing official. Everything was second hand and was making her sick to think about. What was happening? Cullen had said the Knight-Commanders were dead so who was in charge? What was happening to the people who were caught in the middle?

            Tugging on her jacket, she told herself not to think about it. Everything was under control. He was okay, they were both okay. She was going to see him again.

            She’d barely made it to her room after the call had dropped before the tears had started tracking down her cheeks. She’d let herself cry for a little bit, trying not to think about how tired Cullen had sounded. Maker, he wasn’t taking care of himself and she knew it. But it had hurt to be able to hear his voice and know he wasn’t actually there. She hadn’t let herself dwell on it for too long, not when she could hear the sounds from outside growing louder with every moment that passed. What was the Lord Seeker saying now? What was he telling those templars and what did it mean for the mages stationed in the Barracks?

            When the others she had shared a room with had come back, she had heard them whispering that this wasn’t right, that templars were supposed to protect them, that their partners were supposed to keep them safe. But suddenly they were the enemy. What were they supposed to do when they were so outnumbered?

            Looking around her as she paused on one of the sets of stairs, Elora took a deep breath. The mountain air was clean and fresh, washing away the fear that had clung to her for nearly the entire week. She wasn’t in the Barracks anymore, she and several of the other mages had gotten out in one piece. They hadn’t come with her and Barris, electing to go to Redcliffe instead. They had asked her to come with, telling her that the mages were gathering there, that the Grand Enchanter was rumoured to be there. She’d politely declined and wished them well. She’d been told to go somewhere else so she was going to go there.

            With her new templar tagalong.

            She glanced at Barris, a smile curling her mouth. She’d expected a fight from him when she had gone to him the day after Cullen had called. She’d expected him to tell her it was a dumb idea, that she was overreacting, that she had been told to stay at the Barracks and wait for Cullen to come back. But he’d nodded as she’d told him, agreeing with her and shocking her further by saying he was  coming with her.

            _“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” he muttered. “I told the Knight-Captain I’d keep an eye on you and keep you safe. I can’t do that if I’m not with you and what the Lord Seeker is saying that’s…that’s not what templars are. That’s not the kind of templar I want to be. So if you’re leaving, I’m going to be right behind you, Elora.”_

            He had been right behind her the whole week, following her and the other mages that had slipped out through the unguarded hidden passage to get out of the Barracks. He had led them into the hills, keeping them safe and making sure they didn’t have to use magic so that the templars left in the bunker wouldn’t be able to track them. Not that she’d been able to sleep. Her thoughts had been too tangled up in worry over Cullen and their current situation. If they were caught, those templars the Lord Seeker had riled up would surely kill them and they wouldn’t be pleasant about it.

He’d assured them there weren’t any phylacteries stored at the bunker so it would be a few days before they could be brought in. If they even would. There were bigger issues going on than a handful of mages that slipped away from a Barracks in the middle of the night. She and Barris had worked seamlessly together in leading the other mages to safety, as good a team as if they’d been paired out of basic training. He’d taken the lead without much prompting and she fell into step with him so naturally, following only the planes of his broad back and shoulders, that it had been quite a start further down the road when he’d turned and she’d found that he was not in fact Cullen. Of course she’d known it was Barris, but some little part of her had foolishly hoped, and the shock of it had left her feeling oddly raw and empty. She hadn’t been so sure footed after that, needing time for herself to try to centre herself again.

If he’d noticed her sudden drop in mood, he hadn’t said anything. Although, she was willing to bet that he had noticed because she was sure not much got by him. She really needed to think of a way to thank him once things settled down because having him around was certainly much better than being on her own.

“This is ours,” Barris said as they came up to a cottage, pushing the door open for her.

            She gave him a slight smile before walking into it. There was a pair of beds across the room from each other and not much in the way of privacy. But that was fine. She’d rather have him close by just in case something went wrong. They’d had a rather good string of luck and she was sure that it was going to run out soon.

            Setting her pack down, she sighed happily as that weight was gone from her. She felt like she’d been carrying it forever instead of only the few hours it had taken them to find a car. Her cheeks coloured slightly at that. Who would have thought they’d need to steal a car in order to get to a safe place yet that was exactly what had happened. Of course, Barris had asked the soldiers at the base of the camp to see if they could return the car to Highever for them so at least they were trying to give it back.

            Elora glanced at Barris when he groaned deeply and collapsed onto his bed. “You alright?”

            “I’m just tired. I’ve never had to run away from somewhere before.”

            “You really didn’t have to come,” she murmured, “but thank you.”

            He rolled onto his back with a sigh and gave her a faint smile. “Hasn’t been so bad,” he mumbled. “Possibly abandoned my career, helped a bunch of mages slip out of the Barracks, stole a car, and drove that stolen car across half of Ferelden.”

            “Well at least it’ll make an interesting story to tell your kids if you ever have them.”

            He laughed weakly, letting his head drop to the mattress. “I need a nap,” he groaned.

            She dug her phone out of her bag and searched for her headphones. “I’m going to wander around for a bit. No, no,” she said quickly when he started to push himself up. “I’m not going to go far. Just around the village.”

            Barris didn’t drop back onto the bed. “I should still go with you.”

            “Barris, there are soldiers everywhere here. I’m just going to listen to some music and stretch my legs for a bit before I try to find something to eat. That’s all. Maybe look at the Chantry.”

            He didn’t look like he believed her.

            “I’ll be good,” she promised, moving toward the door. “You get your nap and I’ll be back before you wake up.”

            “Don’t leave Haven,” he told her.

            Pausing before she reached the exit, she glanced back at him. It should have been Cullen. He was supposed to be there, collapsed under the weight of the day and wanting to do nothing more than pass out. He was supposed to be the one growling at her not to explore and that they could do it later. That she wasn’t supposed to leave and they would wander after they’d both had a nap. If she pushed the issue, he’d shove off the bed to haul her back into the room and probably drop her unceremoniously on her bed. He wouldn’t let her leave without him.

            “Elora? Is something wrong?

            Shaking the thoughts from her, she gave Barris a sunny grin before she was back out the door. She took a moment to plug her headphones in but didn’t put them in her ears right away. Thoughts of Cullen made her ache because no matter how easy it was to work with Barris, it wasn’t right. He wasn’t her partner. He wasn’t the man she had spent the past two months getting to know, falling in-Elora stomped on that thought before it could finish and pushed away from the door. Not the time.

 Walking up the steps toward the Chantry, she could feel her heart starting to pound for a different reason. How long had the Chantry stood here? She wasn’t completely in love with the institution but this was history. This was ancient. This she wanted to see.

            Pausing in going up the stairs to stare at the building. What was the story? That Haven had been built by the Disciples of Andraste, that they had worshipped a High Dragon as Andraste reborn. That they had a Revered Father, not a Mother. That there had actually been a pack of Reavers taking up residence in the mountain temple to further guard the Urn. They were long since gone, Asha Cousland killing them down to the last after rescuing Brother Genitivi. The temple was safe…and open for exploration to the public.

            Elora bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. The mountain and the temple were right there…and they were technically part of Haven. “Excuse me,” she said to someone passing her. “Could you tell me if the Temple is still open to go to?”

            The soldier paused for a moment. “For the moment. The Divine and her entourage are up there now, looking for the best place to set up the talks.”

            She stared. The Divine? The peace talks? Her jaw dropped. “Are you with the Inquisition?” she squeaked.

            He looked uncomfortable for a moment. “It’s not official. Seeker Pentaghast said that if anyone asks, we’re simply a security detail for the Divine.”

            Cassandra was here? Oh. Oh shit! This wasn’t where she was supposed to be! Why had Cullen told her to come here? “Is she here?” she asked, trying to stay calm.

            He shook his head. “She left the day before yesterday. Said she was going on a recruitment run.”

            Shit so she still didn’t know anyone here.

            “If you want to go to the Temple I’d do it soon,” the soldier said as he moved off. “People from both sides are supposed to be going up soon and it’ll be off limits to everyone that isn’t involved.”

            She nodded but didn’t move right away. Cassandra had been here. This was where she had gone to start her Inquisition. The Divine was here. Representatives for the mages and templars were here. Cullen was going to fucking kill her when he found out about this. She really shouldn’t make it worse. She should go back to the cabin she had been given and stay there with Barris until the talks were over. She didn’t need to get into more trouble than she already was in.

            …But it was the Temple of Sacred Ashes. When was she ever going to get this kind of chance again?

            Never.

            She started off quickly, trying not to run so as not to draw attention to herself. But it was hard. Swinging around the main gate, she followed the path along the side. There were enough people on it that it was easy to blend in with them. It was hard not to look like a tourist as she walked, barely keeping her head from jerking in every direction to see what she could. Her heart was pounding in excitement the further up she went.

            Pausing outside of the main gates of the Temple, she stared in awe down at the valley. It was surreal to see everything from up here. Glancing over her shoulder, she stared at the plateau. This was where Asha had fought the High Dragon the cult had thought was Andraste reborn. A freaking High Dragon! Elora knew that there had been more and more sightings of them in the last ten years but to think that a nineteen year old woman had faced a High Dragon here and walked away to tell the tale? It gave her goose bumps.

            And she hadn’t even gotten into the temple yet. How was she going to be able to function when she did?

            She needed to figure that out fast because she didn’t want to push her luck for how long she was allowed to stay in the temple. Moving toward the doors, she told herself she was okay, she was fine. It was just an ancient ruin and she’d been in those before. Granted, they’d been thaigs and not the final resting place of the Bride of the Maker. Nope, not going to think about it.

            Wide eyes looked over as much as she could as she crept through the temple. She tried to be as quiet as she could, feeling like she was trespassing even if it was still open to the public. Maker, this place was epic. How had no one ever found it before? Sure the mountains could be harsh, but this was an entire temple!

            Maybe it really was just one of those right place, right time kind of things.

            Stuffing phone and headphones into her pocket, she wrapped her arms around herself as she wandered. She wanted to remember as much as she could and didn’t want the distraction of music to colour anything.

            A sudden ripple of unease washed over her. Elora stopped dead in her tracks and her hands squeezed her upper arms. What was that? Magic? No one should be using magic here. The mages hadn’t come yet, at least not up here. There were representatives down at the camp and through the valley, just as there were templars, but they hadn’t been allowed to come up to the temple yet.

            So who was using magic?

            Licking her lips, she swallowed to get rid of the bad taste in her mouth but it didn’t help. Whatever magic was being used in this place was making her own react and not in a good way. It made her feel sick, like when she suppressed it for too long or ate too much greasy food. One of her hands snapped up to cover her mouth when her stomach heaved and she gagged softly. What was happening? Why would she feel like this in this place? Sure the ashes were gone but this was still a holy site. It shouldn’t be making her feel like-

            “Someone help me!”

            Elora’s head snapped around at the faint cry. What? Someone needed help? She started moving toward it, feeling the sickness grow along with her unease. Oh, what was she doing? She wasn’t sanctioned to use magic here! She wasn’t even supposed to be here! She’d told Barris she was only going to look at the Chantry, not hike up the bloody mountain to see a temple and get into trouble!

            Her steps hesitated and faltered completely. No, this wasn’t her business. She needed to find someone to report to about what she had heard but she wasn’t going to get involved. She’d promised she was going to keep her head down and this was not-

            “Can anyone hear me?”

            There was more desperation in the voice now, desperation Elora couldn’t ignore. She just couldn’t.

            Moving toward a door at the end of the hallway, she heard the faint snap of magic coming from the other side and knew she was in the right place. Putting her hand flat against the wood, she nearly pulled it back at the wave of hatred that flooded her as soon as she touched it. Whatever was on the other side did not want company. Which should have been all the more reason to leave.

            But she took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

            Pain seared through her, starting in her hand and ripping up her arm. The nerves on the left side of her body were screaming as flames licked at them followed by the hot flash and sizzle of lightning. Her palm ached, tearing and reforming, ripping and shredding before settling for barely an instant before it started up again. The cycle repeated again and again until all she could do was scream and beg for the end. Surely it would come, surely no one could have this happen to them and live.

            Crying out as she suddenly bounced against the ground, Elora felt agony tear through her. What had happened? What was going on? Where was she?

            “There! Did you see that?!”

            She groggily opened her eyes but something-ashes?-stung them so she quickly closed them. Who was there? Her throat was too dry to get any words out and her body was too weak to push herself up.

            “Someone’s alive!”

            “That’s impossible. We haven’t found anyone and-”

            The ash stirred up around her and made her gag as it filled her mouth. Suddenly hands were on her, lifting her up and pounding on her back. She knew it was meant to help but it only made her choke even more. Gasping for air once her mouth was clear, she slumped heavily against whoever was holding her.

            “Ser, she’s alive!”

            She weakly turned toward the person who was holding her. Her heart was pounding and she could feel trembles starting to work through her. She felt weaker than she ever had before in her life. What had she done? Had she depleted her mana? Had she pushed herself too hard?

            “Can you hear me?”

            Elora groaned at the voice. She couldn’t. She didn’t know what was going on.

            “What’s your name?”

            Nothing would come and she could feel her thoughts getting fuzzy. She was going to pass out. Maker, help her, she was going to-

            “You can’t take her!”

            “She’s an undocumented mage. All mages are being taken to Redcliffe.”

            “She’s not undocumented! She’s Chantry personnel!”

            Elora frowned. That was Barris. But why was he shouting like that?

            “Her name is Elora Trevelyan, she’s a Knight-Enchanter and paired with Knight-Captain Rutherford stationed in Kirkwall. You can’t just take her!”

            Take her? Take her where? Her heart skipped a beat. Were they going to take her to Cullen?

            “You’ve already admitted that you aren’t her templar so you have no jurisdiction on what happens to her. She is going to be sent to the rest of the mages at the camp at Redcliffe until we can decide what to do with her. I have bigger problems to deal with than a rogue mage. Have you seen the hole in the sky, Templar?”

            Redcliffe? No!  She didn’t want to go to Redcliffe! She wanted to go to Cullen! And what hole?

            “And our records indicate there is no Knight-Captain Rutherford in Kirkwall.”

            Elora felt her breath catch. What? What did that mean? No! He was in Kirkwall and he was safe! He had promised! It was a long moment before she realised the high pitched wail she could hear was coming from her.

            “Restrain her! Don’t let her use any magic!”

            She felt hands on her before a scream caught in her throat when something pressed down on her. But not physically. It was the solid weight of a smite. Someone had just preformed a smite on her. Panic clawed at her and terror rose up as she still couldn’t move.

            “You son of a bitch! You can’t just do that!” Barris shouted.

            “Templar, fall back into line! She is in our custody and you are relieved of duty!”

            Elora wailed silently this time, her stomach heaving. Her magic was gone. Where was it? She needed it back! Where was Cullen?

            “Elora! Listen to me! I’ll get Cullen. I promise you, I’ll find him and we’ll come get you!”

            “No,” she whimpered, twisting against the hold people had on her. “No.”

            “Bind her,” the voice said. “I don’t want any accidents on the way to Redcliffe.””

            She was roughly tossed over onto her front and her arms were hauled behind her back. She could feel tears tracking down her cheeks and she choked on her sobs.

            What was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely we are getting somewhere! Even if writing this broke my little heart to do.


	14. Commander Rutherford

_It’s going to need stitches._

Cullen shook the thought away as soon as it formed. No matter the pain screaming through his face, he had bigger things to worry about than a cut on his lip. Granted it was bleeding on the table and the paperwork there so that wasn’t exactly the best situation. He dabbed at his lip with his tongue but all he tasted was blood and irritated the area.

            “You should see the surgeon.”

            He threw a look at Rylen. “It’s fine,” he said, pointing at the paperwork that wasn’t spattered in blood. “You’ve cleared all the rooms? Disarmed the traps?”  
            “They’re doing the last sweep now before the crews move in but they didn’t find anything new on the last one,” Rylen said, squinting out the window at the building across the street.

            “And the supplies?”

            “Exactly as reported.” The Knight-Captain paused as someone came into the room. “Intel was good, better than good, Knight-Commander.”

            Maker’s breath, he wasn’t going to get used to that. He was still looking for Meredith and Tomas whenever anyone said it. He didn’t want people calling him that when he hadn’t earned it and he knew it was just an excuse to keep him in the city, just an attempt to save face when the Order was losing it here. People had been using it for a week and a half since Rylen had gotten there. It wasn’t because of him that it had spread, but the men in his company had all been told that it was Knight-Commander Rutherford they were helping so that’s what they called him. Barely a day had passed before what was left of the templars in the city had started calling him it as well. Then it had spread through the city and now everyone used it when talking to him.

            Even Aveline had used it and it hadn’t sounded right to him.

            “You should really go get that lip looked at,” Rylen muttered.

            Cullen sighed harshly. “It’s not that bad,” he growled.

            “Half your face is gone.”

            Pushing away from the table, he started to snap at Rylen before he stopped as another scout came into the room. “What is it?” he asked, holding out his hand for the papers in theirs.

            “News from Darktown. Seems the Carta made a move against one of the guard houses while we were busy here.”

            Cullen’s stomach turned. The raid on the Carta warehouse had been a joint effort between the templars and the city guard. They’d done it for two reasons, to gain the supplies the Carta were hoarding and selling for extortionist prices and to regain some of the public’s approval. Because the people of Kirkwall were not looking at anyone in a uniform with anything close to kindness right now.

            But that had also meant that some of the guard houses had been stretched thin. “We should have brought more templars,” he muttered, rubbing his neck. Maker, he was getting a headache or it was flaring up again. There was a constant ache behind his eyes that was competing with the throbbing in his lip and making his head spin. He should probably be sitting down, probably shouldn’t have participated in the raid himsef, but there was too much to do and he wasn’t sending his people into a situation he wouldn’t go into himself.

            Of course he had wound up with a knife to his face and a second slash across his arm for his efforts. They would both need to be dealt with eventually.

            “We brought as many as we could, Knight-Commander,” Rylen reminded him. “We couldn’t take more from the Gallows and we damn near emptied the Barracks to do this.”

            He knew that, but they still should have done more. The city viewed the templars partially responsible for what had happened, with the Chantry and at the Gallows. They needed to fix that opinion if they wanted to help the city get back on its feet. But the mages left at the school still needed protection, now more than ever, because most of the ones left there hadn’t sided with Orsino and they needed to be kept safe. “Does the Captain need anything from us?” he asked the scout.

            “A few of the men to report back to Darktown but she’s got it under control. She just wanted to keep you informed.”

            Cullen almost laughed but he knew it would hurt. If there was one thing he knew about Aveline, it was that she had things under control. And if she didn’t, she would soon enough. He took the papers and quickly skimmed them. “Pass on the word to her soldiers and see if we have templars to spare to replace them,” he said, starting back toward the table.

            Rylen caught his arm, jerking him back slightly. “You need to get that lip looked at,” he insisted. “You’ve already let it sit for long enough, anymore and you’re running the risk of infection.”

His brows drew together. “It’s not that-“

“You’re white as a bloody sheet,” Rylen growled, his voice low. “You’re not doing anyone any favours by pushing yourself like this. What’s it going to do if you pass out in the middle of giving an order?”

            “I’m not going to do that,” Cullen muttered.

            “You don’t know that. I’ve been here a little over a week and I haven’t seen you take a break for longer than five minutes. I don’t even know if you’ve been sleeping, but I do know you haven’t been taking lyrium regularly.”

            Slitted eyes looked at the other man. “How do you know that?” he asked lowly.

            “Man in charge of the supplies mentioned that you hadn’t been picking up your full ration. You think now is a good time to be doing that?”

            He wasn’t even a hundred percent sure what he was doing but he knew that every time the lyrium touched his tongue he didn’t want it to. “It doesn’t matter if it is or isn’t,” he said quietly. “It’s happening.”

            Rylen studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Alright. But then you’ve got no excuse not to be taking care of yourself.”

            Cullen stared at him. He had walked into that one. “I’m-“

            “If you say you’re fine, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and take you to the surgeon myself.” Rylen paused. “Ser.”

            He threw a glance at the table where all of the reports were. “Radio me if anything else comes up,” he said, passing the papers to Rylen.

            “Get some sleep after you see the doctor.”

            Cullen stopped and swivelled to look at the other man. “Rylen, I don’t need-”

            “The people here are just looking for an excuse to toss us out, Cullen,” he growled, stepping closer. “You collapsing in the street because of exhaustion and lyrium withdrawals is not going to endear us to them. You might not want the damn title but all of Kirkwall sees you as the Knight-Commander and after the fiasco with the last two, you need to keep up appearances. As much as neither of us wants to do that, we have to. This isn’t about us right now. It’s about those templars in the warehouse risking their lives to get food for the people. It’s about those mages in the Gallows terrified to leave and offer their support because they know it’ll only take one wrong look to spark a mob. It’s about the people who don’t feel safe in their homes anymore and are trusting us to change that.”

            He stared at Rylen. With every word, it seemed like the Starkhaven templar was much more suited to being Knight-Commander than Cullen was. “You can have the title,” he said mildly. “You clearly have a much clearer picture of what it should be than I do.”

            “Me? Knight-Commander? Shut your damn mouth, Ser. You couldn’t pay me enough to deal with the nobles the way you have to.”

            A faint smile curled his lips before it faded as his upper lip reminded him that he was not in any place to be smiling. “Radio me if anything serious happens,” he repeated. “I’ll be at the surgeon and then the Barracks.”

            “Get some sleep,” Rylen tossed at him.

            Cullen rolled his eyes and stepped out of the building. Flinching at the harsh light that stung his eyes, he lifted his hand to block it. Didn’t seem right, such a beautiful day when they’d just performed a raid in a city that was swiftly falling to shit. How was anyone supposed to enjoy it when all of this was happening? Sure it worked well for repairs but that wasn’t what anyone wanted to do on a nice day.

            He pushed the thoughts aside quickly. He had other things to worry about beyond the weather and what people should have been doing on the day. Surgeon, bed. Surgeon, food, bed. Surgeon, food-

            “Cullen.”

            His steps stopped dead at the voice and he told himself he had imagined it. There was no way he had actually heard it. Heard her. But as he turned, he saw one of the last people he had expected to see in Kirkwall. “Cassandra,” he said softly as she approached him. “What are you doing here?”

            “Looking for you, among other things.”

            He shook his head. “Now isn’t a good time.”

            “Clearly not. Has anyone looked at your lip? It needs stitches.”

            Cullen sighed harshly. “I was on my way to do that now,” he said dryly.

            “I’ll walk with you.”

            “No, you’re here for a reason,” he said, holding up a hand. “We can go to the Barracks and talk there.”

            “That’s further away. Is there a room here that we could use to speak?”

            He glanced back at the building. Rylen was liable to give him shit if he went back in there but it was clear that Cassandra wasn’t going to let it go. “We can find a room.”

            She followed him back into the building and Cullen pretended to ignore the irritated noise he heard come from where the operations table was. He’d hopefully keep this short and get to someone that could fix his lip. Finding an empty room proved more difficult than anticipated and they were on the third floor before they managed to find one.

            He crossed the room to sit behind the desk in it, trying not to groan too deeply once he was in the chair. Maker, this place was making him feel old. Or maybe it was the lack of lyrium and the heavy exertion he had done in the raid?

            “What happened?”

            Cullen’s gaze flicked up. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Cassandra. A lot has happened since we parted ways in the Mire.”

            “I can see that. I meant to your face.”

            “Assassin had a knife and I didn’t see her until it was too late.” And he was incredibly grateful that the pair of templars with him were quick on the draw and had managed to take her down before she had done serious damage.

            “And your arm?”

            “Cassandra, you aren’t here to ask about my wellbeing or the latest wounds I’ve managed to collect. Why are you here?”

            She stared hard at him before she crossed the room to take the seat on the other side of the desk. “Two reasons,” she said shortly. “One, we are looking for any of the known associates of Olivia Hawke.”

            His heart slammed into his throat before slowly making its way back to where it was supposed to be. “There’s bound to be a few about still,” he said slowly. “Aveline isn’t going anywhere and I don’t imagine Varric is either. I’m not sure about the rest of them.”

            “We’ve already spoken to the…story teller,” Cassandra dismissed. “Despite being here for the past months, I’m positive he just spent the last three hours lying to me completely about what Hawke’s been doing in the city since she got here.”

            “I don’t think he’d lie about everything.”

            “It doesn’t matter. He’s the closest lead we’ve got to the Champion’s whereabouts and he’s coming with me when I leave Kirkwall. I’ll get the truth out of him eventually.”

            When she paused, Cullen wasn’t surprised when she studied him. “Yes?” he said quietly.

            “I do believe him when he said that he didn’t have anything to do with Hawke getting out of a city that was on complete lock down,” she said slowly.

            “People have been going missing from the city since all of this shit started, Cassandra. Hawke is very good at getting by unnoticed if she wants to.”

            “Especially if she has help.”

            He stared at her before slumping back in the chair. “Yes, I helped her out,” he muttered. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

            Her head tipped slightly. “The guards at the gate remember you bringing someone to pass through, but not who it was. It was logged in their records so I knew about it and had my suspicions that it was Hawke. But why did you help her, Cullen? Surely you would know that people would want to question her about her role in what happened here.”

            He kept his breathing steady as he thought about that little bundle that had been tucked tight to her mother’s chest. Maker, had he done the right thing in letting her go? The world wasn’t exactly a safe place for mages or mages that had babies with them. He’d done what he could, giving Hawke all of the spare cash he had had on him to help her get out and had shut down the fight she had tried to start over it. Her assets were going to be frozen and if she tried to access them it would just be a red flag for wherever she was. If she wanted to disappear, she needed to take the money and go. “I helped her because it was the right thing to do,” he said simply. “She couldn’t stay here. The people would have demanded their pound of flesh from her.”

            “Which they had every right to do.”

            “No, Cassandra, they didn’t. Olivia didn’t have anything to do with what happened at the Chantry.”

            “She knew the mage responsible.”

            “But she knew nothing of what he planned to do,” Cullen stressed. “The apostate worked singly to accomplish his goal and was dealt with before I returned to Kirkwall. But because of his connection to Hawke, she knew that eventually the people were going to look for someone to blame and they would turn on her.”

            Cassandra pressed her lips together and looked away. “But we need her,” she muttered, her voice tense.

            Cullen waited for her to say something else before he gave up. “You said you were here for two reasons.”

            “The Inquisition.”

            His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. “If you’re looking for recruits, now is a bad time.”

            “I came to talk to you about joining.”

            Of course she had.

            “I know that you’ve been appointed Knight-Commander of Kirkwall and that walking away from this wouldn’t be easy. But the Inquisition needs a Commander now more than ever.”

            He felt his stomach clench. “We haven’t heard much,” he said lowly, “but….”

            “The Divine is dead,” she said, her voice catching.

            Cullen stared at her. “What?!” he demanded, half rising out of his chair. “What did you say?!”

            She gestured harshly at him. “We’ve managed to keep it mostly under the radar,” she said tensely. “But it won’t stay that way for much longer, I imagine. Most people are focused on the gaping hole in the sky and haven’t asked many questions beyond what it is and how it got there.”

            “How is that even possible?” he hissed. “What happened?”

            “We don’t know. The preparation for the peace talks was progressing as planned, envoys from both the mages and templars arriving when the temple exploded, killing everyone within. Including Divine Justinia.”

            Cullen sank back in his chair, his heart pounding again. The Divine was dead? She was the only one that any of these people would listen to and now she was gone? His brows snapped down. “Wait, temple?” he echoed. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes? Haven? That’s where you went?”

            Cassandra nodded once. “Yes, but from the reports I’ve been getting in the last couple days, there’s not much left of the temple. Haven was left relatively unscathed, but it’s panicked and not in a good state.”

            “So you want me to go from one crumbling mess to another?”

            “Cullen, I need someone I can trust leading the troops, someone I know can handle any situation thrown at him. I know you can do that.”

            “Cassandra, I’m trying to keep Kirkwall from falling apart. I can’t just leave it now when things are slightly looking up.”

            “I know what I’m asking you to give up, Cullen, and I know it isn’t going to be easy. But Kirkwall is only one place. The Inquisition is going to try to help save the world.”

            He rubbed his face and hissed as he opened the cut again. “I understand that.”

            “And I understand your hesitation. Do you think that the offer was solely for you? Elora is more than welcome in the Inquisition as well. There’s several mages that have joined and could benefit from her leadership.”

            Elora. Maker, Elora. He hadn’t heard from her in a week and a half. Not since that single phone call. “She wasn’t why I didn’t take the job when you offered, Cassandra.”

            “Perhaps not the entire reason but she was part of it.”

            He shook his head but he did know she was right. He’d been worried about what would happen to her if he decided to go with Cassandra. He didn’t want her feeling like she had to come with him and he’d wanted to talk to her about it before he’d made any kind of decision. But it had never happened. They hadn’t had the time.

            “Where is she?” Cassandra asked, frowning at him. “I would have thought that she would have been first to heal your face or drag you in to see a proper healer.” She paused, her frown deepening. “No, it wouldn’t have happened because she would have had a barrier around you.”

            “She’s not here,” Cullen said quietly, the words heavy on his tongue.

            “Clearly, but-“

            “No, Cassandra, she’s not in Kirkwall,” he interrupted. “I left her…. Sweet Maker, I left her in Ferelden, in the Barracks outside of Highever.”

            “You…left her?”

            “We were both ordered back but I told her to stay there. I didn’t want her in the city. I wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. She’s better off there.”

            “Cullen, she isn’t in the Barracks.”

            It was a long moment before those words sunk in. It was an even longer one before he accepted them. “What do you mean?” he asked lowly.

            “We went to Highever before coming here. We’d heard rumours the Lord Seeker was there.”

            “He was. Elora saw him.”

            She nodded faintly. “He wasn’t when we got there. No one was. The entire bunker was empty. There wasn’t anyone there, templar, mage, or Seeker. You might have left her there when you came to Kirkwall but she isn’t there anymore.”

            His heart wasn’t pounding, it was racing. “No.”

            “I’m sorry, Cullen, but she isn’t.”

            “Then where is she?!” he demanded. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Cassandra, what’s going on? You said that war was coming but you couldn’t have possibly known that it would happen so fast.”

            “We had hoped that we would have more time, but unfortunately this is what we’re left with.”

            The Divine dead. Kirkwall shattered to pieces. Mages and templars at each other’s throats. The world holding its breath to see if they had another age of death and destruction upon them. And somewhere in the middle of it, his damn mage was lost. “They were wrong to call this the Golden Age,” he muttered. “There hasn’t been a single damned good thing to come out of the past forty years.”

            Cassandra sighed deeply. “I don’t know where Elora is, Cullen, but if I had to guess I would say Redcliffe.”

            “Why?” he asked, looking at her sharply.

            “The mages have holed up there.” She made a face. “No. They were rounded up there. Any mage that’s been found has been shipped there. I’ve heard rumours that Fiona herself is there but there hasn’t been anything concrete. Elora is most likely there.”

            Redcliffe. That was too far away. It would take too long to get everything settled here and get down there. “You don’t know that for sure.”

            “I know that there’s a hole in the sky and that whatever put it there isn’t dead. I know that the Divine is dead and we’re left holding the pieces to try to pick up where she left off. I know that I need you to be the Commander of the Inquisition or we will fail.”

            Cullen swallowed hard. He hadn’t wanted to be in Kirkwall for a while now. Despite what he had said, he was sure that Aveline could manage. Especially if he left someone in charge of the templars that would be able to work with her. If he left, he could go to Redcliffe and see if he could find Elora before going to Haven. The route was longer than going directly from Highever but only Cassandra would know why he was going that way.

            He jerked slightly in his seat. What was he doing? He was acting like he’d already accepted the position. He hadn’t. He was needed here…where he was getting sliced to pieces and losing sleep by the hour every night until he couldn’t even close his eyes. His gaze slowly lifted to meet hers. “We both have a place in the Inquisition?” he said lowly. “Because I’m not leaving her behind again, Cassandra. She’s my partner.”

            “You both have a place.”

            “Shit.” He covered his eyes for a moment before dropping his hands. “I’ll do it,” Cullen said firmly.

            A faint smile curled her lips before it was gone. “Good. How long do you need to wrap up here?”

            He thought as fast as he could. “A week.”

            “Is that including getting Elora?”

            “Yes,” he said flatly.

            She nodded sharply as she rose from her chair. “Good. I’ll see you both in Haven in a week’s time.”

            Cullen watched her go, waiting until the door was closed before blowing out a harsh breath. What had just happened? Had he truly just agreed to walk away from Kirkwall and join the Inquisition? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it when Cassandra had first offered it. How could he not? The Inquisition wasn’t something to take lightly and if the Divine had thought that it was necessary than clearly the events to come were not going to be pleasant.

But he had hesitated, not because of Elora, but because being a Templar was what he had wanted since he was a boy. It was all he had ever wanted for as long as he could remember. He’d been only a child when he had decided that joining the Order was what he had wanted. He had held firm to that belief all through basic training at Redcliffe before moving to Kinloch for the specialized portions of it. All through his time at the Academy, through losing his first partner, through the absolute collapse of the school, his want hadn’t been shaken. Being made Knight-Captain under Meredith and working through all of the trauma, all the pain he had buried to continue doing his job, being sent to serve at the Barracks as his conviction in his Knight-Commander had wavered, and he still wanted to serve.

            But watching Meredith lose her mind, watching the templars abandon what they were supposed to be, watching everything he had strived for fall to pieces around him? This wasn’t what he wanted. This seeing panic on people’s faces when a templar walked by, this outright hatred for the Order. This was never what he had wanted.

            If things had gone differently when he had returned to Kirkwall, perhaps he would have said no. But they had played out as they would and the Order had lost face, was scrambling to even hold onto a modicum of control. More than that, they weren’t even trying to. He’d heard whispers of manhunts across the countries, of templars chasing down and murdering whatever mage they could get their hands on.

            Elora. Fuck, where was she? Cassandra had said Redcliffe but would she go there? Would she go with the rest of the mages when she had told him that she was worried what they would do if they thought she was on the side of the Chantry and Templars? Would Barris go with her or make her go with the templars when they had left? Where would she go?

            His heart leapt into his throat. She wouldn’t come to Kirkwall. She wouldn’t. …Yes, she would. Leaving the room, he patted at his pockets, trying to figure out if he had brought his cell with him. They’d gotten the communication lines up and stable, even if they were being cautioned not to make overly personal calls because everyone was sure each one was being monitored. Shit. He didn’t have it. Was it at the Barracks? Had he even had it since he’d gotten back to Kirkwall?

            Pushing out of the chair, he hurried out the door and took the stairs faster than he should have.

            “Surgeon, Knight-Commander!”

            “I’m going!” Cullen snapped back, striding out the door. Except he wasn’t. He didn’t know Elora’s cell phone number off the top of his head but he had it in his phone. Which was most likely at his apartment. So he would go home, make a call and figure out where she was. Then he could go find the surgeon at the Barracks and deal with his face.

            He knew he should probably do it first but Cassandra hadn’t said when she’d been to Highever. If she’d only just come from there, then perhaps he could stop Elora from coming to Kirkwall. If that was what she was doing…but where else would she go? Her home was here. All of her things were here. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that she’d come because he was here but it was tempting.

            Their last moments together kept haunting him, the look on her face, the fear, the disappointment, the concern, all of it blending together as he had walked away from her. She cared about him, he knew that much and knew that he cared back. Not just because she was his partner either. This time apart from her had thrown into stark relief how used to her he was already, how much she was already a part of his life. He wanted to think that he was the same to her but if that was true she would come to Kirkwall.

            It was a horrible idea, his body was tired, he was pushing himself harder than he should and he had lost blood, but he still started running. It had to look bad, a templar with blood splashed down the front of his uniform running through the streets of a city that did not need anything else looking bad. But he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. He had to get to that phone. He had to talk to her. He had to convince her that she couldn’t come to Kirkwall.

            Sweet Maker, what if she was already here?

            He was panting harshly, sweat dripping off of him, as he rounded the corners of streets faster than he should have. He barely waited for traffic signals to change before he was darting across the roads, ignoring the honks he got when he wound through anywhere that had vehicles on it before the lights changed. He wasn’t going fast enough. He needed to get to his phone. He needed to get to that number.

            Gripping the low wall surrounding the building he lived in, he vaulted over it, moving as soon as his feet touched the grass. He saw startled looks as he ran across the lawn, saw the man on the door scrambling to get it open before he reached it.

            “Knight-Commander Rutherford!” he gasped as Cullen skidded into the entrance, grasping the door as his boots slid on the tile slightly. “Is everything alright?”

            There was a horrible pain in his side from running and he felt light headed. But he pushed out, “I don’t have my key. I need to get into my place.”

            “Of course, of course. But shouldn’t you get to a clinic? Your lip is bleeding.”

            Shit. He must have torn it open again running at some point. “I’m fine,” he insisted, shaking slightly as he stood still now. He was going to start gasping for air at this rate and he didn’t want to do that here. If he was going to collapse anywhere, he wanted it to be in his apartment. “Key?”  
            The doorman hurried over to the main desk and Cullen tried not to bend over to brace his hands on his knees. Maker, he hadn’t had to do anything like that in a long time. Maybe he needed to do it more because he felt like he was going to-

            “Here, Ser, your spare key. Did you need any help getting up to-”

            “I’m fine,” he insisted, taking the key. “Thank you.”

            The man nodded and Cullen felt his eyes on him as he walked over to the elevator. No way was he taking the stairs right now. As soon as the doors were closed, he leaned back against the wall with an explosive exhale. Gulping in air, he pressed a hand to his ribs and groaned as it just made the pain worse. Sweet Maker, never again. He wasn’t a sprinter. He had never been a sprinter. Why did he think that sprinting was a good idea? Why hadn’t he just taken one of the vehicles?

            Letting his head thump against the wall, he stared at the numbers above the doors and wished they’d go just a little slower so he could catch his breath. But his floor came and he lumbered down the hall to his door. It took a lot of concentration to get it open and he nearly left the key in the lock when he did. Stumbling to his room, he was pleased that he had at least plugged the phone in before he had left for the Fallow Mire. Maker, that felt like a lifetime ago. Back when he could actually face the day without wondering if the building around him was going to fall down.

            He unplugged it and stopped as he saw the notifications on the screen. Several missed calls, mostly from Mia no doubt because of the rumours coming out of Kirkwall and his lack of contact with them. And one from Elora.

            Cullen hesitated. Why had she called? Well, no, he knew why she had probably called. But what if it was because something was wrong? But it was a couple days old so if something was wrong he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Not that he would have been able to do it in the first place. Or had she called to tell him that she was going to come to Kirkwall?

            His thumb mashed against the screen, his hand shaking now as he tried to call up voice mail. He lifted it as soon as he could, holding his breath while he waited to hear what it was.

_“Hey, Cullen, it’s me. Elora. I…I’ve tried to call you a couple times and was told I wasn’t allowed to touch the phone anymore. So I’m trying one more time and…of course, it’s your voice mail. Fuck, am I ever going to get to talk to someone when I call them? I just…wanted to make sure you were okay because it’s not okay here, Cullen. It really isn’t and I don’t know where I’m going to go, but I’m not going to stay here. I can’t. I’ll try to call you when I figure out where I go. Please, just be okay? Take care of yourself. Bye, Cullen.”_

            The phone slid from his ear and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maker, what had he done by splitting them up? They were partners, they were supposed to be together. But she was possibly somewhere in Ferelden and he was in Kirkwall. But he was going to Ferelden and had a week to find her before joining the Inquisition. He could find her in that time. He had to find her in that time.

            Sinking onto his bed, he stared across the room at his closet. What was he even going to take with him to the Inquisition? What was he supposed to bring? Was he expected to bring anything beyond himself and his mage? Was she going to want things from her apartment? That he couldn’t get into.

            He didn’t even stop to think, scrolling through his contacts until he got to her name and he tapped it. Maker, he didn’t know what he was going to say to her.

            He grimaced as he ran his teeth over his lip, irritating the split and pushed off the bed to go into the bathroom. It looked worse under the lights as he saw himself in the mirror. How many stitches was it going to take to-

_“Hey, you’ve reached Elora. I can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Bye-bye!”_

            His heart lurched. Voice mail. Shit. “Elora.” He stopped and cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “Elora, it’s Cullen. I don’t know where you are, but please call me back as soon as you can. My cell, not the Barracks. I saw Cassandra and she said that you weren’t at the bunker in Ferelden. Maker, Elora, where are you? Please don’t come to Kirkwall. I accepted the position with the Inquisition. Just call me back and I’ll meet you there. In Haven. Please, just…be okay. Please?”

            He pulled the phone away and stared at it long after he had hung up. She was okay. She had to be okay.

            Cullen looked back up at his reflection, taking in the tired expression, the flush on his cheeks from over exertion, the angry swelling of his lip and the cut that was going to leave a scar, but he mostly saw the bloodshot eyes. He wasn’t half of what he used to be and he knew that it would only take one drink to change that. He could be back at what he had been, drawing on the lyrium to keep him going.

            No. He would do this. He would do this and he would find Elora. They would join the Inquisition, so long as that was what she wanted to do as well, and they would figure out what was going wrong with the world.

            “Just don’t be dead,” he pleaded, turning away from the mirror. “Wherever you are, whoever you’re with, just…don’t be dead.”


	15. So Close

 

_Seven hundred ninety seven. Seven hundred ninety eight. Seven hundred ninety nine._

            Elora’s eyes closed with a sigh as a boom came from well above her, shaking the cell she was in. But more than that, it shook the water drops free of the stalactite she had been counting and completely destroying where she was at. It was the only thing she had to do in the prison, although dungeon would be a better word for it because this room seemed positively primeval. There were little to no modern modifications to it and it was barely liveable.

            If she really wanted to think about it, technically it wouldn’t be liveable if it was a dungeon. They would have been designed to throw people in and forget about them. Even if that was what had seemed to happen to her, she didn’t want to think about it.

            Rolling over, she curled up a little tighter on the threadbare bedroll she had been given. Her left hand was balled into a fist and pressed against her stomach. There were a lot of things she didn’t want to think about. Like she wasn’t going to think about the mark that was splitting her palm and felt like it was tearing her open from the inside. She wasn’t going to think about how long she had been in this cell with no contact with the outside world. She wasn’t going to think about the fact that she was very clearly underground. She wasn’t going to think about how many mistakes she had made since she had left the bunker at Highever. She wasn’t going to think about any of it because she was liable to completely breakdown if she did.

            Her next breath shook as she took it and she felt tears sting her eyes. All she wanted to do was stay in this little ball and cry until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Why had she gone up to the temple? She had told Barris that she was going to stay in Haven. The temple was most definitely not part of Haven. Why had she let her curiosity get the better of her? If she’d stayed with the Inquisition, she would have gotten to see the temple at some point. She just had to be patient.

_“Calm down, Trev. The thaigs aren’t going anywhere. You’re liable to get yourself killed, rushing in like that.”_

_“But they’re right there!”_

_“So are the darkspawn. You didn’t go through all that training just to be tainted did you? Trust me, Elora. We’ll get in there and I’ll watch your back while you figure out the lyrium, but I can’t do that if you go charging in. I’m not as young as I used to be.”_

_“Pah, you’re not old.”_

_“I certainly feel like it around you. Look, see, Luka has given the all clear and you only had to wait, what, two minutes for it?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, Timothie. I know, I know, patience.”_

_A low chuckle and a warm shove to her shoulder. “Get going, mageling. I’m right behind you. Just like always.”_

            Elora’s lower lip trembled. She thought about Timothie frequently, especially since she had rejoined the Chantry, but it had been years since she had heard his voice in her memories. Her psychiatrist had told her that between her own suppression of the events of the accident and the medication they had put her on, it was likely that she would forget things. She’d never expected to lose the voice of the man that had essentially been a surrogate father to her once she was at the Ostwick Academy and it had broken her to realise that she had.

            She still couldn’t remember what had happened at the accident but memories were slowly coming back to her. Little things, things she couldn’t believe that she had forgotten. The longer she stayed off the medication, the more she was remembering. If things kept on the way they were going, she might finally remember what actually happened deep in that thaig, the encounter only she had walked away from.

            If you could call dragging yourself with one arm while you bled out walking that was.

            Maker, what had she done to have all of this happen to her? Was it simply because she was curious? Or was this her lot in life because she had been born a mage?

            Granted, she wouldn’t have met Cullen if she hadn’t been a mage.

            Sniffing, Elora rubbed her eyes. Cullen was going to kill her when he got his hands on her. A watery laugh left her. She missed him, missed having that solid presence of his nearby. More than that, she regretted the fact that she might have lost her chance to kiss him before he had gone back to Kirkwall. She should have grabbed him even after Barris had come up, she should have kissed him even if they’d had an audience. He’d wanted to kiss her so he wouldn’t have protested, he wouldn’t have told her no.

            If she got out of this mess, she wasn’t making that mistake a second time.

            A soft whimper left her when she felt the mark on her palm flare up and she clenched her fist even tighter. It was a constant source of pain from Haven to Redcliffe. Not that she’d been able to do anything about it with her arms bound behind her back and a Templar nearby to smite her should she get out of hand again. He hadn’t done it until they’d nearly been at Redcliffe, the Templar in charge deciding it would be easier to deal with her in a semi-comatose state. She had been completely defenceless as they had hauled her out of the back of the truck, her head spinning and fighting the urge to throw up.

            She’d followed them on stumbling feet, falling several times and suffering through their snide remarks and none too gentle hands as they had picked her back up. It had gotten to the point where they were practically dragging her through the halls until they’d tossed her in this cell. That was where she had stayed, seeing a Templar twice a day with meals and that was it.

            At least for the first couple of days it had been a Templar. The third day had seen a change, a young man with a foreign accent bringing her food and watching her strangely for a few minutes after he had put her meal down. He’d introduced himself as Felix the second day and hadn’t seemed very surprised when she hadn’t said much back to him. He’d apologized for keeping her here and told her that it was for her own good, that if she wanted to survive she had to stay hidden.

            Elora’s mouth twisted as she thought about that. Stay hidden? There wasn’t more hidden than forgotten in the basement of Redcliffe castle.

            She heard the door open suddenly and tensed automatically. It was too early to be another meal and that was the only time she ever saw anyone else. She was just waiting for the day that it wasn’t Felix or a Templar, but someone that was coming to kill her. Because that’s what happened to people in a dungeon. She tried to get her breathing back under control, tried to stay calm. She hadn’t been smote in days, if someone opened that door she wasn’t going to stay in this cell. It didn’t matter if the mark on her hand was messing with her magic, she was getting out.

            Listening as the door closed, she tracked the soft steps across the floor. It was only one person, light on their feet, probably Felix. But he wasn’t coming to her cell; he passed and continued deeper into the cellblock. There were only four and it was just her down here so where was he going?

            Her brows drew together as she heard the scrape of stone against stone as something moved, heavy breathing and panting following it. “Hurry,” Felix’s voice said lowly. “You don’t have a lot of time.”

            “After the week I’ve had, it can’t possibly get worse,” a new voice muttered.

            “You don’t know what they’re planning, Dorian.”

            “I saw firsthand what they’re planning, Felix,” the second man countered. “I am well aware of what will happen if I don’t hurry.”

            Elora frowned to herself. What were they talking about?

            “All of the Templars are gone,” Felix said. “The mages are thankful for that but I don’t think they all know that Fiona signed them over to my father, wants to make them citizens of Tevinter despite the fact that this method is Ages old and no one has done it like that in decades. I don’t know if it’s even legal anymore. But he’s in charge of all of them.”

            “An army of slaves to sacrifice,” this Dorian muttered. “Felix, your father has clearly lost his mind if this is what he thinks needs to be done.”

            “It’s not just that. You heard about what happened at Haven?”

            “It’s rather hard to miss the gaping hole in the sky, not to mention all of the rifts scattered throughout the lands that are spewing demons into Thedas.”

            Felix sighed and Elora strained to hear what he was saying. “They, the group my father is with, are looking for the person responsible for it, this person apparently is very valuable to whoever they’re serving.”

            “What does that have to do with anything, Felix? No, I understand what it has to do with everything, but why are you telling me this?”

            “Because she’s the one their looking for.”

            Elora felt a chill run down her spine. Hole in the sky? Rifts? Demons? What the fuck was going on? She’d only been in here for five days by her count. How could that have all happened in such a short amount of time? And why were they looking for her?

            The mark on her hand cracked loudly and silenced the conversation across the room. Shit.

            “Eavesdropping?”

            Elora hesitated for a moment before she rolled over and pushed herself into a sitting position. “It’s hardly eavesdropping when you know I’m right here,” she said shortly.

            The man on the other side of the bars looked a little worse for wear but he was doing better than her she was sure. “I’ll give you that,” he conceded.

            Leaning back against the wall, she crossed her arms over her chest and made sure that her left hand was tucked out of sight. “You look like you’re a long way from home.”

            His head tipped slightly. “Dorian of House Pavus, teaching professor at the University of Minrathous and former research partner of one Gereon Alexius. How do you do?”

            Elora’s brows went up. She hadn’t expected that. “I’ve been better,” she admitted, hesitating over giving him her name. But if she didn’t, she supposed Felix would since she was sure he knew who she was. “Elora Trevelyan, Ostwick Academy alumni and Second Tier Knight-Enchanter assigned to Knight-Captain Rutherford.”

            “Chantry folk then?”

            “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” she muttered. “Templars are the ones that put me in here.”

            “Near as I can tell, your Templars have all gone mad. They’re out in every corner of the countryside, hunting down mages who haven’t done a damn thing to them.”

            “They aren’t impressed that they were kicked out of Redcliffe, that my father took the mages away from them. But either way, you need to get her out of here before my father finds out she’s here.”

            “Where are we supposed to go?” Elora asked. “And why would I trust either of you? How would I know that it’s not a trap?”

            “You don’t,” Dorian said plainly, “but as I like living and I’m sure you do as well, I think we can work together to a mutual solution.”

            Felix moved forward to unlock her cell and she was shocked when he tossed a pair of gauntlets into the room. They weren’t hers, hers would still be in Haven, but the fact that he had even thought to look for them to give to her made part of her hesitation disappear. “You don’t have a lot of time,” Felix told them. “My father has heard reports of a mage brought from Haven, a mage that survived the explosion at the temple and has torn the city apart looking for her. It’s only a matter of hours before he’s going to start looking in the more remote parts of the castle.”

            Elora carefully pushed to her feet, slowly moving over to grab the gauntlets. She ignored the way they both stared at her left hand as it flared and crackled while she pulled the mitt on. “Where are we supposed to go if we manage to get out of the Hinterlands without becoming Templar stew?” she asked mildly.

            “The Inquisition is still at Haven. They’ll shelter you both.”

            She wasn’t so sure about that. Although it had been Templars, not Inquisition soldiers that had brought her here. Rubbing her fingers together after the gauntlets were on, she snapped her fingers and watched the fire ripple and roll over her hands. She dismissed it quickly before looking at the both of them. “Well?” she asked. “Are we going or not?”

            Felix pointed at an open spot in the corner, presumably where Dorian had come in. “I have to get back before he notices that I’ve been gone for too long.”

            “Be careful, Felix,” Dorian told him. “I don’t want you getting into trouble because you helped me.”

            “What he’s doing isn’t right,” Felix said softly. “He hasn’t been right since Mother died.”

            Elora glanced at the pair of them as Felix left before her gaze settled on Dorian and then narrowed. “We’re not leaving are we,” she said flatly.

            He shook his head slowly. “Alexius needs to be stopped. Not later, now if we can do it. Later will be too late. I have a very good idea what he’s planning on doing with all his new mages and we can’t let it happen.”

            “And if I want to leave?”

            “I’m not going to stop you. But despite only just meeting me, I’d like it if you stayed.”

            “Why’s that?”

            “It looks strange when I get caught talking to myself.”

            Elora couldn’t stop her snort. No. She didn’t want to like him. She needed to get out and find Cullen. She needed to get out and figure out what the mark on her hand was about. She needed to not get herself into even more trouble. And this Dorian Pavus was definitely trouble. “Don’t make me regret this,” she sighed, gesturing at the door for him to lead.

            He grinned at her. “What’s to regret about going through a castle overrun by Tevinter mages looking to sacrifice your kind to some mysterious being called the Elder One?”

            She stared at the back of his head. “How did you even get here?” she demanded tensely, already regretting her decision. Cullen was going to murder her with his bare hands if she lived through this!

            “Ah…funny story that.”

 

* * *

 

            “Ser, you can’t get out until we’ve landed!”

            Cullen reluctantly sank back into his seat, hating that he knew the pilot was right. He wanted nothing more than to leap the rest of the distance to the ground but they were probably higher up than he thought. And breaking his legs now when he was back in Ferelden, back in Highever, was not what he wanted or needed. Even though he did want his feet on the ground so he could get off the base and go looking for his mage.

            Not that he truly needed to look that hard. Barris had managed to get a hold of him, using Elora’s phone, and he tried to tell himself he wasn’t completely shattered over the fact that it hadn’t been her calling. It was a lie because he had been and still was. He’d had half a second where he had thought his luck had held out, that she was alright and was going to tell him where she was. Instead it had been Barris informing him that Elora had been taken by Templars to Redcliffe.

            Cassandra had been right in the end; she was at Redcliffe but not of her choosing.

            He started to rub his face but stopped abruptly as his lip throbbed in agony. He’d already had to have the stitches replaced once, the surgeon that had put them in unimpressed with him to say the least. He hadn’t been overly gentle about doing them the first time and any finesse he might have possessed was completely gone with the second. If he ripped them a second time, he’d have to do them himself and he would just make a complete mess of it.

            His eyes squeezed shut as the helicopter wobbled and his thoughts spun out of control. Back to Elora, back to what Barris had told him had happened when she’d been taken. Bound and smote. She had been bound and smote like she was a damn criminal. Maker’s breath, could it get any worse?

            She could be dead.

            Cullen’s breath froze in his lungs at the thought and he violently shoved it away from. She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t. He had done the right thing in leaving her in Ferelden, no matter what had happened between then and now, he had done the right thing. He would know if she was dead. He would know.

            He was never going to forgive himself if he had gotten her killed because he had left her behind.

            “You’re clear, Ser!”

            Grabbing the single bag he had brought with him, he slung it over his shoulder as he hopped to the ground. It was still jarring after being airborne and the lack of lyrium in his system had made the trip even worse. Having his feet back on the ground should have helped but it was making it worse. Head spinning, stomach heaving, chills racing across his skin…. Maker, he needed this to get better, he needed this to pass so he could focus and give his full attention to the task he had set out for himself.

            “Knight-Commander!”

            Shit. Looking toward the voice, Cullen saw someone running toward him. Even squinting, he couldn’t make out who was approaching him. But when he got closer it was easier to see that he did know him. “Barris,” he said quietly, “I’m not the Knight-Commander anymore.”

            He nodded but Cullen didn’t miss the way Barris wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “You said you’d joined the Inquisition but not what your title, if you had one, was.”

            He was so tired of titles yet he had taken another one on. “Commander,” he said quietly. “It’s to be commander and, Barris? It’s not your fault.”

            The Templar finally looked at him fully. “You left her in my care, Ser. She was my responsibility. That makes it my fault.”

            Cullen shook his head and started off the landing pad. It really wasn’t. He had been the one that had left Elora behind and Barris couldn’t have known what he was getting into. Cullen hadn’t even known and she was his partner. “Either way, it doesn’t matter,” he sighed. “How fast can we get to Redcliffe? I want her out of there now.”

            “I’ve already got us a car. We can be there in a few hours and you can get some rest before we look for her.”

            “I don’t need rest,” he muttered. That was a lie. He needed it more than anything now that he wasn’t giving his body the lyrium it was used to. But he couldn’t stop. It had been a whirlwind back in Kirkwall, getting everything set up to run smoothly after he left, a ten minute argument about putting Rylen in charge that had ended with the Knight-Captain telling him to respectfully shove it because he wasn’t the Knight-Commander anymore and if Rylen wanted to leave the Order as well to join the Inquisition, there wasn’t a damn thing Cullen could do to stop him.

            _“You may have only been Knight-Commander for a short while, but you know what you’re doing. If you’re going to the Inquisition, it means you think it can help, make a difference. That’s what I want so that’s where I’m going.”_

            Rylen was going to finish making sure that everything transferred smoothly in Kirkwall and then he was to meet Cullen in Haven after the Redcliffe detour. He’d bring whatever Templars didn’t want to remain in Kirkwall, boosting the Inquisition’s numbers a little further, he hoped.

            And with any luck, he’d be bringing a mage of caliber with him as well.

            “Let’s go,” Cullen said shortly. He didn’t want to waste any more time. He wasn’t sure how long it was going to take to get Elora out of Redcliffe and he wanted to spend at least a little bit of time with her before going to Haven. Have a small chance to catch his breath before they confronted the next set of problems that would be waiting for them.

            Namely the death of the Divine and the hole in the sky he could see from here.

            They’d barely made it halfway across the airfield when someone else approached them. “Cullen Rutherford?” the woman asked.

            He frowned at her. She was smartly dressed, hair and outfit perfectly pressed and completely in order. Which was completely out of place on the airfield which made him wary. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” he asked.

            “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I was instructed to bring you once you landed.”

            “Bring me?” Cullen echoed, his hackles rising. “I’m not a thing to be brought anywhere.”

            “My apologies, a bad choice of words. My employer wishes to speak with you before you leave Highever.”

            “Your employer? Look,” he said, his voice curt, “I have had a very stressful two weeks and I don’t have the time nor patience for these kinds of games. If you can’t give me a straight answer, I’m not going with you.”

            Her lips pursed. “Please, Mr. Rutherford. He just wants to talk to you.”

            Cullen stared hard at her and then shook his head. “No, that’s not a proper answer.”

            “You won’t be able to get into Redcliffe without him,” she said before he could take a step away from her.

            His gaze slid back to her. “How do you know I’m going to Redcliffe?” he asked lowly.

            She gestured at Barris. “We’ve been following him since he started checking on the routes to Redcliffe that haven’t been road blocked.”

            “No, you tapped either my line or his,” Cullen said flatly. “Who do you work for?”

            “Ferelden.”

            “Ser, we can still just leave,” Barris said quietly when Cullen didn’t respond to her.

            He knew that but he also had a bad feeling that he knew exactly who she was talking about and if he was right they wouldn’t get very far before they were stopped again. There was actually no guarantee that they’d even make it out of Highever, or off of the airfield, before they were stopped again. Because, if he was right, that man was worse than a mabari with a bone when he fixated on something.  “Where is he?” he asked.

            “Follow me.”

            Cullen watched her walk away before sighing. “I can meet you at the car-”

            “I’m going with you. The last time I let Elora out of my sight, she got taken by Templars. This has got trap written all over it.”

            He sighed again and followed the woman. He didn’t want interruptions like this, wanted to just go so that he could start his search. But if it was who he thought then he could help, maybe. He’d better because this was just going to be wasting his time if he didn’t and he was very much on a time limit.

            His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the car she was leading him to. Completely tinted back windows, larger than usual, and with several people standing around trying not to look like they were watching the car when it was very obvious they were watching the car. “Wait here,” Cullen told Barris, slinging his duffle bag off his shoulder.

            The other man took it and didn’t look happy about any of this. “Are you sure?”

            “It’s not exactly easy to say no to the king of Ferelden, Barris,” he sighed.

            Barris’ eyes widened. “The king? Why would the king want to talk to you?” he demanded harshly.

            Because once upon a time ago we were in training together. “I’m about to find out.” Cullen moved over to the door the woman was standing beside. He slipped into the car as she opened the door and wasn’t surprised when it closed immediately behind him. “A lot of effort to talk to one man,” he said dryly.

            “Not even a hello?” he asked before pitching his voice in what Cullen assumed was an attempt at what he sounded like. “I haven’t seen you in years, Alistair? It’s good to see you?”

            Looking across the car, Cullen cocked a brow. “Hello, Your Majesty. You haven’t changed.”

            “In good ways?”

            Cullen just stared at him. He was not going to get pulled in to any of Alistair’s games right now.

            Alistair rolled his eyes. “You could at least pretend to be surprised.”

            “I don’t have time to be surprised and you’re not subtle. You’ve got probably the most expensive car in the city, a personal assistant, and a dozen guards doing a very bad job at pretending not to be guards around the expensive car.”

            “There are other important people in Highever,” Alistair protested. “The Couslands!”

            “One of which happens to be the queen and your wife so it would still be your car. And I’m sure your license plate is something ridiculous like I love cheese or something.”

            A finger pointed at him. “I’ll have you know that’s too many letters for a license plate.”

            “Meaning you’ve tried,” Cullen said dryly.

            Alistair gave him a disgruntled look, muttering under his breath.

            It was almost enough to make him smile. Almost. “What do you want from me?”

            “Did you really think we wouldn’t hear about you quitting the Templars? After being named Knight-Commander of Kirkwall? That you’d abandon the career you’ve wanted since we were children?” Alistair’s eyes narrowed at him. “You look like shit. Did something chew on your face?”

            Cullen made a short gesture, not wanting to talk about it. “I need to go to Redcliffe and I’m losing time before I need to move on to Haven. If you can’t help me or won’t tell me why you want to talk to me, I need to go.”

            “Redcliffe isn’t under control of the Templars anymore,” Alistair said shortly. “They were kicked out three days ago along with my uncle, Teagan.”

            His brows drew together. “They removed the arl? Did the mages revolt against the Templars?” Maker’s breath, was Elora involved in that? Had she been caught in a fight she didn’t want?

            “No,” the king said, shaking his head. “The reports I’ve been getting were that it happened practically overnight, an outside force coming in and clean sweeping the place.”

            “Who?” Cullen asked shortly. “Who could do that? Who could move into Ferelden like that without you knowing about it?”

            “The Hinterlands have been a disaster essentially since Kirkwall started, Cullen. I gave the mages a safe haven in Redcliffe, for the peace talks the Divine was organising, but after Kirkwall it’s just gone to shit.”

            He slumped back in his seat. “Is that the royal opinion on the matter?” he asked mildly.

            “The royal isn’t supposed to have an opinion on the matter,” Alistair mocked. “Even though the Chantry has told the royal that he should be supporting the Templars like a good Andrastian. The royal should know the mages are bad, evil, wicked creatures that put a hole in the sky after all.”

            “You’re still not funny,” Cullen muttered.

            “You still don’t have a sense of humour. I’m hilarious. Asha said so.”

            “She’s your wife. She has to say that.”

            “No, she doesn’t,” Alistair grumbled. “It’s supposed to be her job to pad my ego but-”

            “Alistair, I don’t want to know what she pads. I need to get to Redcliffe. If you aren’t going to help me get there, I’m leaving this car.”

            “Why?”

            Cullen hesitated. For as dumb as he played himself up to be, Alistair was one of the shrewdest people Cullen had ever met. Even when they’d been initiates back in the boarding school outside Redcliffe, he’d known to be careful what he said around the other boy. He had an uncanny habit of remembering all of it. The only thing that hadn’t completely put him off the other boy was the fact that Alistair wasn’t mean natured, that whatever he learned he wasn’t going to use against anyone. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Alistair that he was looking for his mage partner, wasn’t sure if he wanted to trust Alistair with the information that he needed to find her, that he was terrified he had lost another mage.

            Wasn’t the third one supposed to be the charm?

            Alistair narrowed his eyes at him. “That important?” he mused. “I could order you to tell me. You are Ferelden and since you’re not a Templar anymore, you fall under my rule again.”

            Shit. “Don’t,” Cullen said flatly.

            “You seriously think I’m that kind of person? Cullen, you clearly don’t know me at all and I’m offended.”

            “I’m looking for someone,” he growled. “She was taken to Redcliffe and that’s all I know.”

            The king studied him for a long, silent moment and Cullen didn’t like a single second of it. He hadn’t seen Alistair in years, not since the Kinloch incident. Even before that, he hadn’t seen much of him since Alistair had gone to Denerim for further training before getting out of the Templars and Cullen had stayed at Kinloch. “Well, I have a car. I can drive you. Or Geran will drive you since the royal isn’t allowed to drive himself places.”

            Cullen jerked. “No,” he said automatically.

            “It’s stupid isn’t? Saved a country, went across all of it multiple times, but suddenly some idiot put an obnoxious chunk of gold on my head and I’m not allowed to drive myself anywhere. Ah, although I suppose that idiot is my wife so you might want to forget I said that.”

            “That isn’t what I meant and you know it. No, you’re not taking me to Redcliffe.” If he did, he’d drive Cullen insane within the first ten minutes.

            “I’m the king, Cullen,” Alistair said dryly. “There’s a very short list of people that can say no to me. You aren’t on it.”

            “That’s not what I meant. No, it is. I meant, I already have a car. Barris has it and-”

            “And what? You’ll pass out and kill yourself on the road half way there?” Alistair shook his head. “No. You’ll come with me.”

            “I wasn’t going to drive,” Cullen protested.

            “This Barris can come too. If he wants, he can drive your car or come with us or whatever. Cullen,” he said sharply when he tried to protest again, “you aren’t getting it. Redcliffe is on lock down. They aren’t going to let just anyone in, especially not a former Knight-Commander of the Order. If you want to find this person, you’re going to need me.”

            Cullen stared at him. “Because you’re the king,” he said quietly.

            “Last time I checked, it’s still my country and I’m more than a little cheesed at the fact that someone just walked in and kicked Teagan out. I’m heading that way anyways so it’s no skin off my back.” He paused and gave Cullen another look. “You sure you don’t want to go to a healer to get your face looked at?”

            “A surgeon already looked at it.”

            “More like fucked it up.”

            “Thanks.”

            “I didn’t mean! No, look, your face is just your best feature right? I mean not you specifically, not that it isn’t, but I mean-“ Alistair stopped and covered his hand with his face. “You look like shit.”

            He felt like shit. But he wasn’t going to admit that to Alistair right now. “I’ll be fine.”

            “You look like _shit_.”

            “I heard you the first time.”

            “It won’t take that long to find a healer-”

            “The mages are in Redcliffe.”

            “-who can fix you up well enough that you don’t look like you’re going to die before we make it to Redcliffe.”

            Cullen sighed deeply. “I’m not going to die,” he said blandly. “I just…need rest.”

            Alistair was back to studying him again before he reached behind him to knock on the glass divider. When it rolled down, he said, “Tell the man outside that he’s free to join us in the car or bring his own. Keep him within the security detail and treat him like you would if I was in the car. Better yet, treat him like the _queen_ was in that car.”

            Cullen wasn’t sure why that made the driver chuckle and Alistair grin but he decided he didn’t want to know.

            “Either way, we’re going to Redcliffe since Mr. Rutherford doesn’t seem to care about his face any.”

            “It’s not that bad,” Cullen muttered, shifting on the seat. He wasn’t one for anything overly ornate, but he’d give it to Alistair. The seats were fucking comfortable.

            “Clearly you don’t own a single mirror,” the king tossed at him. “Have you even eaten? Maker’s breath, Cullen, you’re dead on your feet. You weren’t even this bad at-ah, no, never mind. There’s not much food in here but we can stop somewhere to get you something.”

            Sinking a little lower on the seat, he sighed, “Are you going to prattle at me the entire way there?”

            “I haven’t seen you in ten years and that’s all you’ve got to say to me? No hello and stop prattling at me? Your age is starting to show Cullen.”

            “I’m not that much older than you.”

            “Unlike you, I have aged incredibly well, thank you.”

            Cullen had to bite his tongue to not make any comment about that. He was not falling into this trap, he was not going to start in with Alistair.

            “Really? Nothing? I left myself wide open and you didn’t say anything?”

            “Do me a favour,” Cullen mumbled, “do the impossible and keep your mouth as far from wide open as you can manage. I know it’s hard, but you’re the king. You should be able to do it now.”

            Silence from the other side of the car for a long moment before a low chuckle. “Nice to see you haven’t changed either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late posting of this. My boss decided she wanted to work me full time since I'm done my class and that doesn't leave a lot of time to get chapters up and ready at the usual times I'd post them. But here it is, better late than never!
> 
> And, that interesting story of Dorian's? Be on the look out for that one! :D


	16. And Yet so Far

 

            Bracing her hands against a wall, Elora gasped for breath and tried to stay upright. She hadn’t been ready for this. She was most definitely not ready for this. Despite doing nothing in the cells that had been draining in any way, being thrust into this situation was not what she wanted. The mitts weren’t right, the magic was off, her hand hurt like a bitch, she didn’t know what was happening

            “Are you alright?”

            Her gaze slid to the man with her, the man she really didn’t know but had followed into Redcliffe castle anyways. Why the fuck had she done that? There had been a perfectly good escape route right there. “No,” she said honestly. “Are you serious? Are you sure we’re in the fucking future?”

            A warm hand hesitantly settled on her back for a moment. She knew he meant it as comforting but she wasn’t in the mood to be comforted. “It would seem that way,” Dorian agreed.

            She groaned and let her head drop. He’d already gotten far more excited than she would ever get about this situation but then again she supposed if it had been her field of study, she would have been a little more enthusiastic. But it didn’t mean that she had to like it. Any of it.

            “I’m sure I can get us back.”

            “If we find Alexius again,” she moaned, pushing away from the wall. “Assuming he’s still alive.”

            Dorian awkwardly patted her back when they both realised that his hand was still on her before he let it fall away. “Those guards we encountered? They’re the same that I saw in the Western Approach. Alexius is still here, I’d bet my life on it.”

            “You’re betting both of our lives and a lot of others on that,” she whispered, not sure she liked those odds.

            “I know.”

            Elora took a moment, trying to come to grips with everything. Dorian had told her his story as they had made their way to the main hall of the castle, the sacrifices to this Elder One, his mad escape through the desert thanks to a man known only as Freckles, and the trek he had had to get to Redcliffe once he learned that this was where Alexius was. It seemed farfetched to her, some fanciful story to get some kind of rise out of her, but then again she had a glowing mark on her hand that she didn’t remember getting and they were now currently in the future.

            She bit down on her lip. Cullen. Ionas. Maker, everyone she knew. What had happened to them? They weren’t even sure when they were, weren’t sure what exactly had happened, only that they weren’t in their time anymore.

            “We need to keep moving,” Dorian said quietly. “Alexius will probably be in the main hall again and we’re a long way from there.”

            Elora groaned deeply, already feeling like she’d walked a million miles. Granted, they had just snuck through the entire castle to get to the main hall and to confront Alexius once. It had not turned out well for them, she couldn’t imagine that it would work well a second time. “Do you remember the way?” she asked, looking around. Everything looked so decrepit now. How long had they been gone? What had happened to cause all of this?

            “Is someone there?”

            Dorian and Elora glanced at each other before looking down toward where the accented voice had come from. “We’re still in the bottom levels of the castle,” Dorian said quietly. “Anyone down here with that kind of accent is surely a prisoner.”

            Sighing, Elora shifted so she could take a few steps into the prison block. “Hello? Who’s there?”

            “Fiona.”

            Eyes widening, she practically bolted to the last cell at the name. “Grand Enchanter?” she gasped when she saw the woman.

            Tired eyes looked back at her. “Not quite so grand now,” she sighed before frowning. “You. I know you. How do I know you?”

            Elora wasn’t sure what to say, didn’t want to actually admit why the Grand Enchanter might remember her face. But Fiona was staring at her, clearly struggling to remember how she knew Elora.

            “You,” she finally breathed, her eyes widening. “You were the one in the main hall, the one that challenged Alexius. But how are you alive? I saw you disappear into the rift.”

            Not something she really wanted to think about since it had landed them in this mess. And she wasn’t sure what to think that Fiona actually remembered her when she was positive they had never properly been introduced. But she was far more focused on what was happening in the cell. “I don’t understand. What’s happened to you?” she whispered.

            “Red lyrium,” Fiona choked out, barely sparing a glance at the crystals growing out of her body.

            Elora took a half step back, her skin crawling in revulsion. Red lyrium? What the fuck was red lyrium? She had never heard of that before.

            “It’s a disease,” the Grand Enchanter continued. “The longer you’re near it eventually you become this. Then they mine your corpse for more.”

            Elora’s stomach heaved at the very thought. Lyrium growing out of people? Using that to make more? What in the Void was going on?

            “Can you tell us the date?” Dorian asked and she jumped. She hadn’t realised he’d followed her over to the cell. “It’s very important.”

            Fiona seemed to struggle for a moment and Elora’s heart ached. How long had she been down here? How long had she been left to rot with those crystals growing out of here? No one giving her a second thought except maybe to see if she was dead yet. The questions did not sit well with her at all. “Harvestmere, sixteen forty-two Golden.”

            “Sixteen forty-two?” Dorian echoed, surprise coating his voice. “Then we’ve missed an entire year?”

            Elora closed her eyes for a moment, not wanting to come to grips with that. A year. A fucking year?! What had happened in so short of time for this, for any of it, to be happening? “We have to get out of here,” she whispered.

            She felt him touch her shoulder, squeezing gently. He didn’t have to say it but she knew he was silently telling her that they would. But she shrugged off his touch, taking a small step away from him. She didn’t want to blame him for this, but he it had been his idea to confront Alexius, on their own.

            Fiona took a wheezing breath before speaking again. “Please, stop this from happening. Alexius serves the Elder One, more powerful than the Maker. No one challenges him and lives. If you survived what Alexius did, surely you can stop them both.”

            Elora stared at Fiona, wondering where her rage at the other woman had gone. She’d been furious when Felix had said that the Grand Enchanter had essentially sold the mages to the magister and she would be well within her rights to not pity the woman for what had become of her. But she did. Fiona had been trying to help the mages and she had made a very bad call. “I don’t know what I can do,” she admitted softly, “but I’ll do what I can to make this right.”

            Those tired eyes came back to her again. “Be careful,” she whispered. “They will be looking for you. Despite his dominion over the land, he’s still looking for you.”

            “Who?”

            “The Elder One,” Fiona rasped. “Without a body, he never accepted that you were dead.”

            “Why would anyone care about me?” Elora demanded. “Why would he know anything about me?”

            “Remember how Alexius reacted to you before he sent us here? Felix told us they were looking for you because you survived what happened at Haven.”

            “The whispers started before you were even brought here,” Fiona sighed. “Gossip travels faster than anything.”

            Elora had been gossiped about before but she had a feeling this was so much worse than anything she was used to. “I don’t want to know,” she said quietly. “We’ll go back and make sure this never happens. I promise, Fiona.”

            “Our only hope is to find the amulet Alexius used to send us here,” Dorian said as she turned to him. “If it still exists, I can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot that we left. Maybe.”

            “Good.”

            They both looked at Fiona. “I said, maybe. It might also turn us into paste.”

            “You must try,” Fiona stressed. “One of the Inquisition leaders is here. Find her. Quickly before the Elder One learns you’re here. You are…our only hope.”

            She didn’t like that, she didn’t want to be anyone’s only hope. And what was she talking about, Inquisition leaders? Beyond Cassandra, Elora had no idea who was part of the Inquisition so she wouldn’t know who to even look for. Her heart hit her throat and lodged there. Cassandra had asked Cullen to join. If she’d disappeared, had he joined? Had he joined before he’d even learnt about what happened to her? Did he even know what had happened to her?

            She stared at Fiona for a moment longer before turning on her heel and fleeing the room.

            “Hold on a moment,” Dorian called after her but she ignored him.

            He followed her, of course, she could hear his boot heels against the stone as he lengthened his stride to keep up, but she didn’t stop. She needed out of this nightmare. That crimson disease creeping through Fiona’s flesh, jutting out in sharp spikes and slowly consuming all of her was going to be seared into her memories for a long time and she didn’t want it there. She wanted to forget it had ever happened, that any of this had ever happened. This wasn’t supposed to happen!

            “Elora, wait.”

            Her mind was spinning, her thoughts tumbling over one another. Her heart was pounding in her chest, fear and denial making her shake. She needed to get away from that room, as far away as she could get. Without meaning to, she broke into a run, needing to escape all of this, needing to get out of this nightmare.

            “Elora!”

            She gasped harshly when a firm hand grasped her arm and jerked her back, forcing her to stop. But the motion seemed to unclog something inside her and she started sobbing, ragged sounds that left her doubled over and desperately fighting the urge to vomit while trying to breathe.

            It didn’t make any sense! She couldn’t rationalize what she had seen in that cell block. She’d spent five years after graduating researching every piece of lyrium she had found, was the foremost expert on it, but right now, here in this moment, all of her knowledge was useless, a waste of her time, because did any of it even apply to what she had seen? The mere thought caused angry tears to burn her eyes.

            “Just breathe,” Dorian said soothingly and she realised his grip had moved to her shoulder where he was rubbing slow circles. “Try to calm down.”

            For some reason that set her off. “Fuck you!” she snapped, jerking up and away from him. “Don’t tell me to be calm! Nothing about this should make me feel calm! What in the Maker’s name was that? What the fuck is any of this?!”

            She was grateful he didn’t try to move closer to her or tell her to be quieter. He stayed right where he was, hands held up where she could see them. “Fiona said it was red lyrium-”

            _“That is not lyrium!”_ she nearly screamed. “I was, am, the foremost expert in lyrium studies in all of Southern Thedas. I know lyrium. That shit is not lyrium! I didn’t spend five years of research and study and presentations and begging for grants and sleepless nights to be told that that is lyrium! Because if it is I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening here or how we can ever hope to stop it. What in the Void happened here, Dorian? Why is lyrium growing out of people?!”

            He didn’t answer her right away and, after she took a moment to breathe, she couldn’t say she blamed him. He was probably waiting for her to start yelling at him again. Which wasn’t fair. This wasn’t his fault. Well, not entirely. He was partially responsible for where they were, but everything else? That wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t done any of that.

            But to his credit, he had stood his ground and took her misplaced anger with nothing more than a straight face and a clenched jaw. Did he know she was on the verge of panic? She didn’t know what to do, she’d never seen lyrium do that, never seen it so aggressively take over a person like that, and she had no idea how to reverse the effects.

            If they could be reversed at all.

            “I don’t know,” Dorian said slowly when she didn’t say anything more. “And the fact that you don’t either is extremely concerning.

            “Yeah, no shit,” she sighed before heaving a deeper sigh. Sniffling, she rubbed the back of her hand across her nose and told herself she wasn’t going to cry now that the anger had given out. Taking several deep breaths, she slowly exhaled each one and forced herself to do it until her heart calmed. Panic wasn’t going to help either of them right now. Losing her mind here was probably the worst thing she could do. She needed something to focus on for the moment, something to get her mind off of everything else, something that had nothing to do with this shit storm.

            Which meant she was stuck studying Dorian. She hadn’t really had the chance before, too busy sneaking through a castle that was crawling with Tevinter mages. But she let her eyes trace the strong features of his face, the dark hair that was still somehow in place. His pale eyes stood out sharply against his darker skin and that ridiculous moustache she knew without asking that he was very proud of. But he was real. He was from her time so she wasn’t alone. He made sense in a world that was so very wrong.

            Even if he was from Tevinter.

            Her breath caught at that thought. What had he said? That he’d known Alexius, that he had helped develop the time magic that had sent them here? If that were the case, then he really could get them back! He was her best chance at getting back! “We’re going back,” she whispered, her voice quiet.

            His lips curved up, his eyes sparking as he realised she was getting past her crisis. “We are,” he agreed, saying it like it was a fact and he was completely sure of it.

            She wanted to trust him, to completely believe that he was going to do it, was going to get them out of here, but something was still holding her back. She didn’t know if it was years of being told in the Academy that Tevinter was wrong in how they taught their mages or if it was something else, something inside her preventing her from completely trusting him. But she knew it was there and she hoped it didn’t get in the way of their return to what was supposed to be their present. “We should probably look for that person Fiona was talking about,” she murmured.

            “Yes, the Inquisition leader. I heard whispers about them before I got to Redcliffe but I can’t say that I had the time to meet any of them. Shall we?”

            They moved forward in silence, neither of them mentioning the spikes of lyrium jutting from the floor and walls of the castle. Elora started to lose hope of finding anyone in this place that wasn’t connected to Alexius and the Elder One the further they went. To make matters worse, she was starting to shake, physically and emotionally exhausted from having to make her way through every floor of this blasted castle twice with very little rest between.

            Jerking her fist back to put out the flames she’d summoned on one of the Venatori, she felt the metal dust inside her mitts spark out and wanted to scream in frustration. Of course. Of fucking course the piece of shit thing would give out on her. Pulling it off, she tossed it to the ground before booting it across the room. “I want to go home!” she cried.

            She shrugged off Dorian’s grip when his hand touched her shoulder, stalking forward into the room the Tevinter mages had spilled out of. She didn’t want to be comforted right now. She was tired of this. She wanted to sleep in her bed. She wanted to curl up in her chair with her tea and a book. She just wanted to go home.

            “The light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next.”

            Elora stumbled to a halt at the voice. It wasn’t as tired as Fiona’s, but there was a strange quality to it. But even with that she knew that voice.

            “For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water.”

            “Cassandra?” Elora whispered, not daring to hope as she edged toward one of the cells.

            The woman in the cell looked up slowly, a frown marring her face before it disappeared, turning into one of total shock. “Elora?” she said in disbelief.

            “Cassandra!” she said again, rushing forward and gripping the bars of the cell. “Oh, Maker, it is you!”

            Cassandra was openly staring at her. “How did you even get here?”

            Elora looked at Dorian as he came up beside her, unlocking the door with keys from one of the Venatori and letting her push it open. “I was brought here after Haven, after…the explosion,” she explained, feeling foolish.

            The Seeker’s eyes widened. “You! You’re the one everyone was looking for? I had reports of a woman that had walked out of the Fade but there wasn’t anyone who knew your name or where you had gone!”

            She wasn’t sure she should, but Elora took a few steps forward and held out her hand to Cassandra. “Why are you here, Cassandra?” she asked softly.

            She told herself that she wasn’t offended when the Seeker didn’t take it. “Me? That isn’t important. You look like the last time I saw you! How is that possible? How could you be here and not be affected, tainted? How?!”

            Elora flinched back at the harsh note in Cassandra’s voice. “It’s a long story,” she whispered, wondering if this was a bad idea. She had never been completely sure what the Seeker had thought of her and to see her now, after over a year had passed with no good explanation of what had happened…. Elora wouldn’t have taken her hand either.

            “You can’t be here,” Cassandra stressed, sounding like she was almost afraid of Elora.

            She sagged slightly. “But I’m still here,” she said softly, “and…shit, I don’t know if I can even help. I’ll probably make a mess of it, light a torch, accidentally summon some demons. I seem to be good at that. All I seem to be good at.”

            She nearly screamed when Cassandra’s palm smacked into hers and almost fell over as the Seeker used her to pull herself to her feet. “You are Elora,” she said after a moment, dark eyes moving over her face. “I don’t understand how you got here, but…you are not a trick.”

            “Because I accidentally summon demons?” she said in confusion.

            “Because a demon wouldn’t think to say that and a trick wouldn’t know of it.”

            Something eased inside her, just a little. Cassandra was wrong, most definitely wrong, but she was familiar at the same time. She really needed familiar right now. Because she was acting calm, but she felt ready to fly apart. But she could pretend for a little longer, could pretend for as long as it took to get them out of here.

             “To answer your question, we heard rumours of strange events at Redcliffe Castle, something not even the mages had anticipated. We used a secret way in but it was a trap.”

            “We?” Dorian asked.

            Cassandra barely spared him a look, still looking at Elora with far more disbelief than she liked. “The Inquisition. We tried to stop this from happening, but there was nothing we could do. The Breach spread and this is where we wound up.”

            Elora wanted to ask who had joined the Inquisition, she wanted to know if he had joined but she kept her mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about it. About him. “Are you hurt?”

            Cassandra waved it away. “Nothing you can do will help me. I’ll be with the Maker soon.”

            The casual way she said it made Elora take a step back. How could she just be so accepting? Although…if she had been in here as long as Fiona, was there anything else to do but accept the fact that soon you would die?

            She barely heard it as Dorian explained what had happened, how they had gotten here, her ears practically buzzing as her thoughts spiraled out of control. She took a few stumbling steps away from Cassandra’s cell, clenching her hand as the mark on it throbbed. This wasn’t right. None of this was fucking right. No. She needed to stay calm. Deep breaths. They were going back and none of this was going to happen.

            “Three hundred bottles of beer on the wall. Three hundred bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, ah….”

            Turning to the speaker, Elora let out a sound of disbelief. “Iron Bull?”

            He turned, single eye squinting at her in the gloom. “You,” he said softly. “I know you. Pretty face…asking questions.” He trailed off for a moment staring hard at her face.

            “I’m-”

            “I’ll get it,” he interrupted, still staring. “Storm Coast. Vints. Trev’s cousin. What was the name? Ellie? Allula? Aurora?”

            She stared back at him, wondering if he was having a laugh at her. “Elora.”

            He smiled faintly. “I almost had it.”

            He really hadn’t but that wasn’t important. “Maker, what are you doing here?” she whispered.

            “After all the shit that went down and the Vints really started coming south, the Inquisition was the only logical place to go, the only ones that seemed to have a plan of what to do. Choice wasn’t too hard and I’ve never been one to shy from impossible situations.” He shook his head. “But this? This isn’t impossible, it’s a fucking cluster fuck. But what are you doing here? You don’t look like you’ve been here long.”

            “We got sent into the future,” Elora said softly. “We’re trying to get to Alexius to fix all of this.”

            “I thought Ionas was supposed to be the crazy one,” he muttered. “But what you’re talking about makes no sense.”

            Her heart leapt into her throat. “Ionas?” she said desperately. “Did you see him? I mean after I saw you before you were here? Maker, he isn’t here is he?!”

            “Easy, Trev. Take a breath. Ionas isn’t here. I never saw him after we talked,” Bull said and it almost sounded like an apology.

            She stared at him, the tears coming back. If he hadn’t seen him, then Ionas hadn’t joined the Inquisition? Did that mean he was…dead? She choked on the wail that thought brought and squeezed her eyes shut. He wasn’t dead. This was wrong. He wasn’t dead. They were going back and she was going to find him. Even if she had to tear apart the entire continent, she was going to find him.

            Steps sounded behind her and continued on to the cell. Dorian most likely since he had the keys still. When the door swung open, she looked at Bull as he stepped out. “We’re going to find Alexius,” she tried to explain. “To get back to our time, the proper time, to stop all of this from happening.”

            He growled deeply and for an irrational moment she was scared he was going to attack her. “Alexius isn’t the one you need to worry about. It’s the Elder One.”

            “So we’ve heard,” Dorian muttered and they both took a step to the side as Bull practically charged away from the cell.

            “You suddenly got a pet magister, Trev?” Bull demanded.

            Elora blinked at him, thoroughly confused but Dorian clearly understood because he sighed in what could only be called aggravation.

            “I’m not a magister, I’m an Altus.”

            “Same damn thing from where I’m standing. High bred mage, sounds like you spent a good deal of time in Minrahtous too.”

            Dorian made a gesture. “We don’t have time for this.”

            Bull rumbled lowly, still watching Dorian like he was a threat. “You have no idea. That Elder One killed the Empress of Orlais and invaded all of the south. With a demon army. You ever fought a demon army? I don’t recommend it.”

            Elora stared at him. Killed Celene? Invaded the south? In only a year? “Well,” she said softly before stopping. “Shit.”

            “I know right? Let’s move. No time like the present.”

            “You’re going to come with us?” Elora said in surprise.

            Bull levelled a look at her. “I’m not going to stay in that cell and between you and the Vint you don’t look like you’d withstand much more. Plus it’s better to have someone you can trust at your back.”

            Dorian muttered something under his breath, but Elora shushed him. They didn’t have time for infighting and couldn’t say no to another pair of hands. “Okay. Cassandra?”

            “I’m going as well, Elora. You’re our only hope of this never happening.”

            “Right, good. Fucking Void, what am I even doing?” she grumbled, going toward the door.

            She heard metal scrape against the floor and glanced over her shoulder to see Cassandra and Bull both picking through the weapons the fallen guards had been carrying. “You lead, Elora,” Cassandra said firmly.

            Containing her grumbling, she looked down at her left hand. The mitt was still gone and she wasn’t going to pick it up again. With the way things were going it would probably explode on her at some point. “Alright, fine,” she growled. “Main hall. Shouldn’t be hard. Walk in the fucking park.”

            “I thought we were here to keep each other from talking to ourselves,” Dorian said mildly.

            Elora pointedly ignored him and stomped out of the room. It was childish but she didn’t care right now. She was sore and tired and torn between irritation and terror with everything she found. What was this Elder One everyone kept referencing? Why did he want to know about her? Was it the mark on her hand? Did he know something about it? “Cassandra?”

            The Seeker didn’t say anything but she came to Elora’s side.

            “The temple,” she said quietly, trying not to rub her hand. “What happened?”

            The sigh that left her was long and pained. “What didn’t happen?” Cassandra mused. “What do you remember?”

            “Walking through the temple, hearing a voice, then nothing but pain and….” Elora hesitated. She had had five days in the cells of Redcliffe to think about what had happened. She still wasn’t completely sure that she did actually remember anything truthfully but there was one thing. “There was a woman. Then more pain and the Templars came.”

            “Templars aren’t the ones who found you originally. Inquisition soldiers did, or so the reports say. They said that you stepped out of the Fade, that they saw a woman behind you.”

            “But you said you didn’t know it was me.”

            Cassandra hesitated. “I didn’t. All the reports didn’t mention a name because the Templars claimed you before you’d fully woken. All we knew was that the survivor was a mage and was taken to Redcliffe. Anything beyond that was unknown.” She paused and pushed Elora back for a moment as she checked the corner they had come up to. “For the longest time, I thought, we all thought, that whoever had been taken away was responsible for the blast, for the destruction. It was part of the reason we decided to make a move on Redcliffe despite the fact that it is still one of the most heavily defended cities in Thedas.”

            “And now?” Elora whispered, her skin crawling thinking that she had survived an explosion. Red lyrium, Elder Ones, exploding temples and walking out of the Fade? What even was her life anymore?

            Dark eyes turned to her and Elora felt her stomach drop to her boots at the red tones flickering through her gaze. “I know you, Elora. I know you never would have done that, mage or no. Maybe you are an apparition and I am dead, fooling myself with this ridiculous notion that the world can be saved at this point. But the Elora I left in the Fallow Mire, the Knight-Enchanter partnered with Cullen would never have done that.”

            At least she had that going for her.

            “There!”

            Elora swore and took a step back at the shout, letting Bull and Cassandra take the lead now. Or she tried to. She was pretty sure she got shoved out of the way. Down one mitt and unsure of how long the other was going to last, she resorted to defensive techniques, making sure barriers were well established and giving their fighters a second to breathe by blasting the attackers back with a thought.

            Even with the minimal effort from her, she felt exhausted once all of the men were on the ground. “I’m so out of shape,” she whispered, bracing her hands on her knees and breathing hard.

            A hand patted her back and she assumed it was Dorian. “We should keep moving,” he said quietly.

            She knew that and pushed herself upright to follow Cassandra and Bull as they scouted ahead.

            “I’m surprised you didn’t ask her.”

            “Ask her what?” Elora sighed, wondering if she knew Bull well enough to ask him to carry her. Probably not but he seemed like a nice enough guy. Maybe he’d go for it.

            “When we got here, to this time, you said Cullen was going to kill you, that he was going to, and I quote, ‘straight up kill me with his bare fucking hands.’”

            Elora flushed. Had she? She’d been disoriented when they’d first gotten here, probably babbling, clearly babbling. “Why…would you think I’d ask her about that?”

            “While you were talking to the qunari and left her with me-thanks for that by the way. She truly isn’t a fan. She asked how I knew you and I asked her the same. She said she partnered with you and a Cullen Rutherford. If I’m not mistaken, that would be the same Knight-Captain Rutherford you mentioned when we first met?”

            She sighed deeply. “Yeah, they’re the same person,” she mumbled.

            “But you didn’t ask.”

            She wanted to say it was because she didn’t want to know but that was a lie. She did want to. “There’s a time and a place for everything,” she said softly. “Now isn’t the time or the place for anything.”

            “All the more reason to ask her.”

            But what if she said he had died? Yes, this was the future and she was planning on going back, but…what if he was dead? It didn’t matter if she was going to make sure this never happened, the thought made her heart shrink and whimper in pain. She was already sure that Ionas was dead in this future, she didn’t want to know that Cullen was gone as well. “Or not. She might not know anything. We weren’t working together when I was brought to Redcliffe.”

            “She still might know something.”

            Elora shook her head. She didn’t think now was the appropriate time to be asking about Cullen, no matter what Dorian said. What did it matter if he was alive or dead right at this very moment? She flinched. No. It mattered but she couldn’t get distracted. Then it truly wouldn’t matter because then she would be either dead or unable to get back.

            Moving through the castle got harder the higher they went, more guards with better equipment and Elora felt ready to collapse before they were even close to the main hall.

            Leaning against a wall, she desperately tried to catch her breath and wondered if she really did rely on her mitts so much that this was the result. She knew she’d only been on active duty for a short time but this seemed a bit much, far worse than she would have expected. A cool hand pressed to her forehead and she savoured the touch, wanting more of it.

            “You’re burning up,” Dorian said in concern. “Is that normal? You’re a fire base aren’t you?”

            She nodded, knowing that meant she ran a little warmer to the touch even if she felt cold most of the time.

            “You shouldn’t be this bad though. Seeker! Is this normal for a Southern mage?”

            Her chin was tipped up so she was looking at Cassandra and she swallowed with difficulty as her face was turned to either side. “No, this isn’t normal,” she said after a moment. “Were you injured, Elora? Did you come in contact with red lyrium?”

            “No,” she said weakly.

            Before Cassandra could say anything the mark on Elora’s hand snapped to life and made all of them look down at it. “You woke up with that after the explosion?” Cassandra said slowly.

            Elora nodded.

            “It must be connected to the Breach,” she muttered, her gaze slowly lifting to look at her. “You did not see it, but it consumes the sky, a massive hole that demons spill out of, rifts across the land bringing more of their ilk into Thedas. The mark is connected to it…and most likely killing you.”

            The pained whimper slipped out of her and she bit her lip to keep it from going further. Killing her? No!

            “You need to go back, back to when the Breach wasn’t so large, when you have time to fix all of this,” Cassandra said firmly.

            But they weren’t sure any of this was even going to work! “Cassandra, do you-”

            “Hey, they’re going to torture someone in here,” Bull said sharply.

            They all looked to see him as close to a door as his horns would allow.

            He flicked a glance at them. “Any of you know a Sister Nightingale?”

            “Leliana,” Cassandra breathed. “She still lives?”

            “Not for much longer.”

            The Seeker let go of Elora even as she said, “We must save her!”

            Elora wasn’t sure how much more saving she was capable of but she nodded. “Let’s do it,” she said as firmly as she could.

            “Let me,” Dorian said quietly, holding her arm and keeping her slightly back when she went to follow the others. “Save your strength for now. I can watch their backs.”

            “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling particularly useless but thankful at the same time. If what she was feeling was because of the mark on her hand, she didn’t want to push her luck. Which was all she seemed to be doing lately. She still followed Dorian toward the door, keeping close to him in case she was needed or he didn’t keep his word. She was very grateful when she wasn’t.

            She was also very grateful that Dorian didn’t say much when she slumped into him, his arm sliding around her to keep her upright.

            “Leliana.”

            “Cassandra, you’re still alive.”

            “Not for much longer,” the Seeker admitted and Elora glanced up at them. “We need to move.”

            “You’re armed? Good. The magister is probably in his chambers.” This Leliana pulled up short when she saw Elora and Dorian in the door, her head canting slightly to the side before her gaze slid down to Elora’s hand as it sparked. “You. You are the one everyone was looking for?”

            She didn’t say anything, knew there was no point when it was clear what the answer was.

            Leliana moved forward, to a locked box near the door and didn’t say a word further.

            “Aren’t you interested in how we got here?” Dorian asked.

            “No.” She rose from her crouch, a bow slung over one shoulder and a quiver in her hands.

            Elora felt him tense against her. “Alexius sent us into the future. It was never meant to happen. This. His victory, the Elder One-“

            “Enough,” Leliana said sharply. “This is all pretend to you, some future you hope will never exist. But it did. I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real.”

            She could actually feel the other woman’s pain against her skin, pressing down on her, along with the fury that was burning inside of her. She felt like she should apologize but she wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t make her even madder. Watching as Cassandra put her hand on her shoulder, Elora closed her eyes as the two women talked quietly for a moment.

            “You gonna be alright?”

            “I don’t know,” she answered Bull. “I feel like I’m going to pass out and throw up and blow into a million pieces.”

            “Sounds like my last hangover.”

            She couldn’t help it; she laughed. It was weak but she still laughed.

            “Hey, I like the sound of that,” Bull rumbled. “Haven’t heard it’s like in a long time.”

            Elora smiled at him, feeling a tiny bit better for it. “Thank you,” she whispered.

            “Any time. You sure you’re good to walk? I could help if you like.”

            She had flashes of Cullen picking her up, lifting her over broken walls, tossing her over his shoulder, and tears stung her eyes. “No,” she said weakly. “You’re our front line of defence. You don’t need me hanging off of you.”

            “Let me know if you change your mind. I could handle both.”

            Pushing away from Dorian, she wobbled a couple steps away so that the others could leave the door. She caught Cassandra’s elbow as she passed, hanging on long enough to keep her attention even if she felt muscles go stiff under her palm. The others started down the hallway and let them take the rear. Moving slowly with the Seeker, Elora felt the words burning on her tongue, felt the question overwhelm her, but her throat was too dry to ask it, her mind too scared of what the answer might be. Would Cassandra tell her? Would she want to? Or did she want to get as far away from Elora as possible and not even bother listening to what she had to ask? If she could get it out.

            In the end she didn’t have to. Cassandra was silent for a long moment before she sighed. “He never stopped looking for you,” she said quietly.

            Elora’s breath caught. “What?”

            “Cullen. It’s what you wanted to know, wasn’t it? He joined the Inquisition, led the armies as its Commander, was exactly what everyone needed him to be. But he never stopped looking for you. He refused to believe you were dead, said he would never accept that you were gone if we didn’t have proof you were dead.”

            “Oh.” Oh, Cullen. She rubbed fiercely at her eyes to stop herself from actually crying.

            “I’ve been here a long time, Elora, but before I came to Redcliffe he was still alive. The soldiers stationed here would come to gloat every time the Inquisition clashed against the walls of the city so I don’t know what his fate is. But he was alive the last I saw of him.”

            A shaky sigh left her and she knew she was definitely crying. “Oh,” she said again.

            “If you get back, it won’t matter what happened here.”

            Elora nodded, silently resolving that she would get back. Dorian would figure out the magic and they were going home. And as soon as she was back, she was finding her damn Templar and then her bloody cousin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. Holy mother of god this chapter. I had to walk away from it for a week because it took me an entire day (complete with long breaks because I needed them) to finish and then my wonderful Luci found all the flaws in it so it needed to be reworked. Twice. Let me tell you, never underestimate a good beta reader, folks. Especially one who is honest and actually sends you reworked portions of it to show you how you can change it for the better.
> 
> Of course the reworking put about two thousand more words in the chapter. But it's done and over and I'm going to be bursting at the seams waiting for next Friday to come around!


	17. Miss me?

 

            “What’s taking so long?” Cullen demanded, pacing in front of the car. “He should be back by now.”

            Barris didn’t say anything. He had probably grown tired of being snapped and snarled at. Which he didn’t deserve but Cullen had no one else to vent to at the moment. Not since Alistair had decided he was going into the castle, on his own.

            He’d been in a decent mood when they’d gotten here, despite spending the hours between Highever and Redcliffe trapped in a car with Alistair. He had managed to get a nap in and had woken to the smell of food. He hadn’t been surprised that the king hadn’t listened to him and he’d kept quiet while he’d eaten, only pointing out that this wasn’t exactly fast food fare.

            _“Being king has a few perks, Cullen. One of them being that any restaurant is take-out if you want it to be.”_

            He shook his head sharply. Alistair had talked to him for the rest of the way, telling him what had happened in Ferelden, the repairs that were still being done despite ten years passing since the Blight. He hadn’t said anything but a part of him had wondered if the country would ever be able to recover from it. He didn’t want to think about how badly southern Ferelden had been affected, how the small towns had been abandoned and overrun by darkspawn, so many lives lost to them. How many families had been displaced because of it.

            Cullen looked at the long bridge to the castle and felt a glower settle over his face. Alistair had been gone for an hour, over an hour now, and he should have been back by now. They’d gotten word that a magister, a fucking magister, had been in control when they’d arrived at the city and everything in Cullen had screamed that it was wrong. A magister? In Ferelden? There was no situation at any point in his life where he had thought that he would ever hear that sentence and yet he had.

            He’d also watched the easy look on the king’s face settle into anything but as they’d been told that news. He remembered Alistair having a keen mind but watching him organise troops to move into the city with as minimal amount of bloodshed as possible had impressed Cullen. He’d been quick and efficient, highlighting all the points where enemies might hole up in the city, where the civilian population would be, where the most strategic parts of the city were that would need to be claimed to retake it. It had certainly helped that Alistair had grown up here before he’d been sent to boarding school. The gathered soldiers had listened and responded precisely like this was something Alistair did often which had further surprised Cullen.

            He hadn’t realised that the king was so closely linked with his army, close enough that they simply listened without question.

            _“Asha says I keep too close of tabs on them,” Alistair muttered when Cullen approached him after the soldiers had dispersed. “But it’s easier to give them orders when I know who I’m talking to.”_

_“Do you know them all by name?”_

_“Most,” Alistair admitted, squinting at the castle. “If not by name, then by sight.”_

_“A capable leader knows who he surrounds himself with.”_

_That gaze swung around to him. “Never thought you’d ever say that about me, did you?”_

_Teasing? Now? “The possibility to lead was always there, Alistair,” Cullen muttered. “You just lacked the drive to do anything about it.”_

_“Anyone else and I’d lock you up for insulting me. I have very fragile self-esteem you know. It needs constant fluffing and with the queen gone there is a distinct lack of fluffage in the palace.”_

_Cullen shook his head, unable to help the small smile that curled his mouth._

_“Maker’s breath, was that a smile? A real, genuine smile for me from Cullen Stanton-oh, nope and there it goes.”_

_“How do you know my middle name?” Cullen demanded._

_Alistair spread his hands, trying to look innocent. “Well, you have to know these things when you’re king, you kmow.”_

            He didn’t know. He also didn’t know what was keeping the king so long. It didn’t help matters any that Cullen was still angry over the fact that Alistair had ordered him, as king of Ferelden to one of his subjects, to remain outside the castle. He had known that his best bet at finding Elora was inside that castle because the high ranking mages would have been in there. Rumour had it that the Grand Enchanter was in there. If there was anyone that might have some information about Elora, it would be her.

            But he was stuck outside, like a child that had misbehaved in class, waiting for some news of what was going on.

            They had made it into the city with relative ease and had been further startled to find the mages already surrendering to the Ferelden forces. Those that were from Tevinter had been turned over and were currently locked in the back of several padded vehicles. Alistair had then taken a handpicked number of guards into the castle and they were stuck outside to wait. He wanted answers, not more waiting.

            Where was she? He’d scanned the faces of the mages that he had seen on the way to the castle just off centre of the town but he hadn’t seen hers. He hadn’t seen her anywhere and it was making panic set in. What if Barris was wrong and the Templars hadn’t brought her here? What if they’d taken her to wherever they’d squirreled themselves off to? What if she was a captive out in the Hinterlands of Templars gone crazy? What if her body was somewhere between here and Haven, lifeless and she was gone?

            Cullen stopped and pressed his hands into his eyes, hard enough that he saw stars. “She isn’t dead,” he said softly. “She isn’t dead. You’ll find her.”

            But the thoughts wouldn’t leave him. The closer they’d gotten to Redcliffe the easier it had been to see the wound in the sky, the large gaping hole that was spitting demons onto the earth. They had had to stop to fight off some that had spilled onto the road. Alistair hadn’t been able to keep him in the car, he’d needed to move, needed to act, and had been more than willing to berate him once he’d climbed back in, blood down his chin and shirt front because he’d split the stitches. Again.

            They’d taped the wound shut as best as they could while still moving and with limited supplies and he hadn’t complained about it. But it was making his head throb more than usual and that wasn’t helping his temper. At all. Even with the faint numbing spell one of the mages had given him, it hurt like a wicked bitch.

            “Ser, look.”

            Cullen’s gaze turned back to the castle from where he’d been staring out at the lake and he practically sprang forward when he saw Alistair. “What happened?” he demanded, nearly shouting as he crossed the drawbridge.

            “Damnedest thing,” Alistair said, sounding torn between being upset and impressed. “The magister was overthrown before we even got anywhere near the main hall. Maybe before we even got to Redcliffe. Would explain why it was so easy to get in.”

            “Alistair,” Cullen said a little sharper than he meant to. When the king’s brows went up, he sighed. “Is it alright to go in?”

            “It’s fine. The leader of the mages seems amiable enough, a little strung out but I can’t really blame her after all she’s apparently been through. Didn’t get the whole story, but Maker I know there’s a story there. You can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. There’s shadows there and I’ve seen them before. Asha has them, Aedan has them. Whatever she’s been through, it wasn’t pretty.”

            That was all well and good but he didn’t care about that. “Will the Grand Enchanter speak to me?”

            “Fiona? I can’t see why not but she’s not the one in charge.”

            Cullen stared at him. “She’s not?”

            Alistair started walking back toward the castle and Cullen fell into step with him. “When the mage got back, after she overthrew the magister, she took Fiona’s title from her. From what I understand, it was quite the shouting match. I didn’t get all the details about it, didn’t get the impression anyone wanted to talk about that little moment of shining brilliance.”

            “Did you at least get her name?”

            A hand waved through the air. “I barely got to see her before the mages wanted her again. I know where she is in the castle and she said that it shouldn’t take too long to speak with the mages so she should be waiting for us. Provided she didn’t pass out. She looked ready to do that. Poor thing.”

            Cullen resisted the urge to sigh at the fact that Alistair hadn’t gotten the name and if he had he wasn’t sharing it now. He didn’t like going in blind and that was exactly what was happening here. It didn’t help matters that he was torn now. He had assumed that the Grand Enchanter would still be in charge, that she would be the one that he would be able to get answers from. Now there was a random mage in charge and depending on whom she was, she could be less informed than Fiona. Which meant he wasn’t any closer to finding Elora.

            Maker’s breath, she needed to be here. The Templars would have kept records of who they would have brought in. Maybe he should request to see that, to look through it and figure out if she was actually here at the very least. If she was, he would start canvasing the city, would ask Alistair’s help to find her. If she wasn’t….

            He followed Alistair through the halls of the castle, trusting him to actually get them where they needed to be and not lost. He knew Alistair had grown up in Redcliffe but it had been nearly twenty years since he had lived here and Cullen keenly remembered the one and only time Alistair had been put in charge of one of the routine training missions that had-

            “She’s in here,” Alistair said, knocking on the door politely before looking at him. “We should have found you something else to wear.”

            Cullen rolled his eyes. He didn’t have time for a change of clothes. Information about Elora was possibly beyond that door. He’d worry about his clothes after he had found her.

            He didn’t hear permission to go in but Alistair must have because he opened the door and gestured for Cullen to follow him. A large study was on the other side of it, one wall dominated by floor to ceiling bookshelves and a huge desk on the far end. Open balcony doors were behind it, looking out over the lake and the city. But the person that was supposed to be here wasn’t. “What are you-”

            “I know we have a million and one things to discuss,” Alistair said, ignoring Cullen and directing his voice toward the open balcony doors. “But a friend of mine is looking for someone and we’re hoping you could help him find her.”

            A deep sigh came from outside. “Of course. It would be nice to have some good news for a change.”

            Alistair chuckled but Cullen had frozen at the voice that had answered. It couldn’t be. Could it? No. Her accent didn’t sound like that, did it? Was it that lilting? Did she roll over sounds like that? Had he actually forgotten what she sounded like in the time they’d been apart? “I understand that all too well,” Alistair said, completely unaware of what Cullen was going through. “It never seems to end well when you’re in charge.”

            “I wouldn’t say I’m in charge,” the speaker continued, the voice getting closer as they came back to the room. “And if I am, it’s merely temporary. I don’t want to be in control of a bunch of spoiled mages.”

            Whatever Alistair said, Cullen didn’t hear. All he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears, drowning out even the throb of his headache. The woman that came into the room was focused on the king, smiling politely and looking far too tired-and beautiful and perfect and _alive_. Something ripped through him, had him swallowing, licking his lips, opening his mouth to speak.

            “Well, enough about that,” Alistair said. “He needs-”

            “Elora,” Cullen said lowly, cutting off whatever the king was going to say.

            He saw her stiffen, saw her eyes widen, saw her slowly turn to look at him. Her mouth parted in surprise her hands coming up to cover it almost automatically. It was her. _It was her!_ “Cullen?” she whispered from behind her hands.

            He didn’t know which one of them moved first. In the end it didn’t matter. He had barely taken three steps before she was leaping into his arms, her own winding around his neck. Relief flooded him as he braced his feet wider apart to balance them, feeling her pressing against the length of him, nothing but soft and warm and so very alive. “Elora,” he whispered again.

            She had had her face pressed into his neck but she pulled back to look at him, tears making her eyes shine. “You’re here,” she breathed. “You found me.”

            That something filled him again and he didn’t stop this time. Dropping his head, he kissed her, fitting his mouth against hers without a second thought. She made a gentle noise against his lips before she was kissing him back. He felt her nails scrape against the back of his neck as her fingers curled against him but he didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, didn’t move. How long had he wanted this?

            Far longer than he cared to think of.

            Her head tipped back just enough for him to slant his mouth over hers again, kissing her almost desperately now. His upper lip was mostly numb now and he hated that he couldn’t feel all of her kiss. He shifted his grip on her, keeping one arm banded around her middle while the other crept up to press between her shoulder blades for a brief moment, moving to cup the back of her head. The silky fall of her hair teased his fingers and he felt her lips part under his on a soft sigh.

            But he didn’t get to take advantage of that as a loud cough sounded just from his left.

            Cullen didn’t want to stop but Elora pulled away, a dazed look on her face as she stared at him. He soaked her in, telling himself that he was never going to forget what she looked like right at this very moment. But another cough came and he swung around, not putting her down. She giggled faintly as her feet moved through the air and he started to smile before he saw the person who had coughed. “You’re still here?” Cullen said lowly.

            Alistair cocked a brow at him. “I take it this is the person you were looking for?” he said blandly.

            Elora shifted in his grip, squirming almost, and he tightened his arms around her. He wasn’t letting her go yet. “You know the king?” she whispered.

            “We went to boarding school and training together at Kinloch,” Cullen muttered.

            She blinked at him before looking at the king. “Oh.”

            “I can’t say I expected this though,” Alistair said. “At. All.”

            Cullen felt heat creep up his neck. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he had just kissed Elora in front of Alistair but he could only imagine what was going on in the king’s head, given everything he knew about Cullen’s past.

            “Well,” Alistair continued, “since I’m clearly not needed here, maybe I’ll just go see if Teagan wants his castle back.”

            “Oh, no-”

            “I’m sure he does,” Cullen said, cutting her off.

            “And I’m sure you’d hit me with the door if I didn’t leave fast enough,” Alistair muttered as he walked to the door, shaking his head.

            “That was kind of rude,” Elora murmured, her voice amused.

            “Not really.” As much as he hated to admit it, Alistair understood far better than anyone else might have. He’d know that they needed to be alone, to talk or whatever else they were going to do. Of course he still didn’t like showing the king what they had but there was no going back now. “Elora-“

            “Holy fuck, what did you do to your face?!” Elora practically screeched when he looked back at her.

            He blinked at her, startled to say the least and unable to hold onto her when she really started squirming.

            She made a noise as she landed back on the floor and her hands moved to cup his face. “Oh, Maker, Cullen, what did you do? Who did this to you? Shit, they look like they did this ass backwards!”

            He loosely reached up to catch her wrists, his eyes closing as she kept rattling off questions that he knew he wasn’t supposed to answer. Her fingers were cool against his skin, which was very welcome, but he could feel something wrapped around one of her palms. Had she hurt herself? Would she stop muttering in irritation long enough for him to ask? “Elora,” he murmured when she tried to take her hands away.

            “Sit. It’ll be easier to heal if you’re sitting and I don’t have to stretch up on my toes.” She managed to get her hands away from his face but he was pleasantly surprised when she caught his to tug him over to a chair. “Sit,” she said again, gently pushing him into it.

            He didn’t want to let go, wanted to hold on, but she didn’t go anywhere once she had him sitting. She stepped between his spread legs and very gently pulled at the corners of the tape on the cut.

            “Oh, it’s going to scar,” she whispered, fretting as she tried not to hurt him further. “Who did you go see about this? They did a shit job!”

            “Kirkwall surgeon. He did the best he could.” Why was he defending the man? Cullen knew he hadn’t been kind and he hadn’t liked him one bit.

            Green eyes were furious as they met his. “The stitches were too deep,” she said through gritted teeth. “Did he do it with his eyes closed?”

            “He did have to do it twice,” he muttered.

            She froze. “Why?”

            Cullen grimaced and then flinched further as it pulled on his lip. “It…split.”

            “Oh, Cullen,” she sighed, gently cupping his face again.

            He watched as she frowned, her brows drawing together in concentration as she tipped his head to either side. He let her turn him, muttering under her breath and sounding anything but impressed with him.

            “If you weren’t going to go to a decent healer, you should have called me,” she grumbled. “Weren’t there any decent healers in Kirkwall still? I know it went to shit but there had to be someone that could have helped you heal this!”

            He didn’t know if he should tell her that he hadn’t been able to go back to the Gallows to find one. He’d left someone capable in charge of the school, had stayed in contact with them during his time in Kirkwall, but he hadn’t been able to go back and he hadn’t wanted to bring a mage into the city proper for fear of what might happen to them.

            “You should have taken me with you,” she whispered. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d taken me with you.”

            “It might have,” he murmured.

            She leveled a look at him. “It wouldn’t have,” Elora said firmly.

            Cullen didn’t bother arguing with her. There was no point when they both knew that she was right. So he simply stayed quiet and watched her as she gently dealt with the last of the bandages. But he flinched back from her as pain flared through his face. “Ow!”

            “Oh, fuck, shit, sorry! Stay still.” Her lips were pursed and he felt magic hum against his skin before it abruptly disappeared. “Oh, there’s a spell here already. What is it?”

            “Numbing,” he mumbled, wondering what had happened to actually let him feel the pain over that spell.

            Her mouth was still a flat line. “Sorry, the last one caught on the cut. I…I have to dispel the numbing one in order to heal this properly. You’ll probably want to stop talking, it’s going to hurt for a bit until I can start healing it.”

            “It’s fine.” And it was. She was still spending time with him, had her hands on him, was talking with him. He could suffer a few minutes of pain to have that continue. Of course, as the pain flared through his face he wasn’t sure it was worth it. It was a sharp pain, like someone was driving a knife through his skull. It hadn’t hurt that much when he’d gotten it! Was this because he’d split it twice more? He couldn’t stop the hiss that left him, trying desperately not to swear.

            “Sorry, sorry,” Elora said quickly and he felt something icy spread over the right side of his face.

            “Did you just freeze me?” The words were slightly slurred and that was answer enough for him.

            “Don’t talk,” she shushed, tapping his nose.

            His brows drew together at that but he just watched her while her fingers skimmed over his cheek, up to the point where the cut ended and back down to his mouth. He thought he felt her thumb rub slowly against his lower lip but she went back to work and his skin tingled under the icy feeling. He could see the little line of concentration between her brows and he had to fight the urge to kiss it away.

            Maker, he had kissed her. He had actually done it. After weeks of wondering if he’d missed his opportunity, it seemed like he hadn’t. More importantly though, she had kissed him back. If it hadn’t been for Alistair would they have stopped kissing? Would she have wanted him to keep kissing her?

            He could feel her magic slipping through and under his skin even with the ice magic she had used. It felt sticky as it washed over him, hot one second cold the next. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she’d spread lyrium on the wound for the way he was reacting to it. He knew she hadn’t but even just the idea of it had his teeth itching.

            His gaze moved over her face again, committing all of her back into his memory. He’d taken it for granted, having her nearby so often, that he was ashamed to think that he’d forgotten anything about her. But he hadn’t realised her hair curled like that. It was always up, always braided and coiled or just pulled away from her face. Several strands were loose, trailing along her neck and shoulders and curling more than he could have ever imagined. Almost more than his. He wanted his hands in it, wanted to feel it against his skin again.

            Elora sighed deeply. “Well, at least it’s not infected. But you still should have called me!”

            Cullen’s heart ached at the wail in her voice before she cleared her throat and shook her head.

            “It’s going to scar. I can’t do anything about that.”

            “It’s just a scar, Elora,” he murmured, trying not to move his mouth.

            “It’s ugly,” she muttered.

            He almost pulled back from her at the anger in her voice but she was still holding onto him. “It’s not…that bad. Is it?”

            Her thumbs were definitely rubbing against him again, along the seam of the new, apparently ugly, scar. If she thought the one on his face was bad, what would she say to the rest of the ones criss-crossing his body? He almost flushed at the idea. They’d only just kissed, hadn’t even spoken about it, and already he was worried about what she would think of him naked? He took a deep breath to refocus himself. The ice magic was fading but the pain, the throbbing that had filled his entire face, was going with it so at least he could think. “I…guess not,” she finally admitted.

            But her gaze was still focused on it, completely stuck so it was either something she really didn’t like or completely the opposite. “Thank you for healing it.”

            She bit her lip. “You’re welcome. Try not to…get anymore, yeah?”

            Hesitantly reaching up, he let his hands settle on her hips and was pleased when she didn’t pull away. “I’ll try but you’ll be there if I do, won’t you?”

            Her hands slid to cup his cheeks. “Yeah, just try to fucking leave me behind.”

            His lips twitched upward. “I won’t be doing that again,” he promised.

            “Good.” Her brows drew together and he watched as something filled her gaze as her eyes darted over his face. What had Alistair said? Shadows? That there was a story behind them? Did it have something to do with the bandages on her hand?

            “What happened?” he asked before he could stop it.

            Sadness flooded her eyes but right behind it was terror. “O-Oh. Uhm. Well. It uhm, fuck,” she whispered.

            Tugging her closer, he slid his arms around her fully. “Hey,” he said firmly, “look at me, Elora.”

            “It was bad,” she breathed. “Really, really bad. I don’t even know how to explain it. I don’t know if I _can_ explain it!”

            He ran his hands over her back, trying to soothe her as much as he could. “We’ll talk about it later then?” he murmured.

            She nodded quickly. “I need to tell you, but not now. Not when I just got you back. I mean, when you just got back,” Elora quickly said, a flush creeping over her cheeks and her hands dropping from him. “I mean, I missed you, obviously, and I’m glad you’re here but this isn’t where you left me. Oh, not that you left me, left me since we’re not…you know, but you did leave me and-” She stopped with a long sigh when he pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his again.

            Her hands pressed to his chest for a moment before sliding up to rest on his shoulders as she shifted closer. “I missed you, too, Elora,” he breathed against her, his heart pounding in his chest as she sighed again.

            “Please don’t leave me behind again, Cullen.”

            He shook his head, his nose bumping against hers before her fingers wound into his hair and she kissed him this time. The loose strands of her hair were brushing against him, teasing and tickling but he didn’t push them away. He wasn’t going to let go of her. Her lips were moving gently against his, little hums of approval leaving her.

            Leaning back in the chair, he was pleased when she followed him, their kiss not breaking once. He felt her shift, had a moment to wonder if she was going to climb into his lap. He wanted that, wanted her closer so he could-

            “Sweet Maker, I thought you were healing him.”

            Elora tore her mouth from his with a gasp at the sudden voice and they both looked at the voice. “You cannot be-” The rest of the sentence was muffled as Elora’s hand covered Cullen’s mouth.

            “I did. As you’re married, your Majesty, I’m sure you know the healing benefits behind a well-placed kiss,” Elora said politely.

            “Yes,” Alistair said slowly, arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk plastered across his face. “But I’m also _married_. Last I checked, you two weren’t.”

            Cullen glared at Alistair over Elora’s hand, wondering if the king was deliberately doing this. Twice. In the space of half an hour? His hands slid back down to her hips, one latching onto his wrist to keep his arms looped around her and to prevent her from leaving.

            “Was there something we could do for you?”

            His gaze flicked to Cullen for a moment. “I wanted to check up on you, make sure you actually managed to heal his face because the stubborn bast-uh, guy wouldn’t let me take him anywhere. Even though I told him he’d lose his face if someone didn’t look at it.”

            Elora laughed softly. “His face is safe, your Majesty,” she assured him. “The rest of him might not be if he decides to go out and get more scars though.”

            “I don’t know. I’ve been told they add character.”

            She was still laughing and Cullen wanted to close his eyes to savour the sounds. Except he wasn’t the one making her laugh and he was slightly jealous of that. “I never did get to thank you for letting us, the mages I mean, stay here,” she said suddenly. “After everything that happened, you were well within your rights to get rid of us.”

            “Well, I will admit that was the plan,” Alistair said, shifting away from the door. “But things change, especially when you actually have valid up to date information.”

            “Either way, thank you, your Majesty.”

            If Cullen hadn’t known her better, he would have thought that Elora was getting ready to curtsey to him and Alistair looked like he was about the same. Manners, it seemed, were not something the king had expected from the woman that had overthrown a magister and the Grand Enchanter. Of course, no one would ever know what to expect from his tiny Knight-Enchanter. His lashes fluttered when he felt her thumb rub gently against his chin before her hand fell away from him. It was hard not to protest the loss of her touch.

            “Ah, well, I was also told that lunch should be served shortly and Teagan wants to meet with you, Elora, uh, or is it Lady Trevelyan?”

            “I haven’t been called that since I was eight, your Majesty. Elora is more than fine enough.”

            “And you can bring him with, if you want, since he looks ready to chew through something it might as well be a meal. You’ll want to keep a better eye on him, Elora, he doesn’t seem to do very well on his own.”

            “He does just fine,” she said quietly, “but I can assure you, your Majesty, I won’t be taking my eyes off of him for a good long while.”

            Cullen thought he saw the tips of Alistair’s ears colour at the way she said it, the emotion in her voice unable to mistake the words for anything but the claim they were. And he wished the same hadn’t happened to him, but he was going to tell himself that he was warm because he liked the meaning behind her words. Not because she had just verbally claimed him in front of his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D well that was overdue! And add this to the favourite chapter pile because this one and the next were such a joy to write after the slog of the future chapter.


	18. Catch Up

            Balancing the plate on one hand, Elora lifted the other to knock on the door in front of her. She kept it quiet, just in case he was already asleep. But she really hoped he wasn’t asleep. It was entirely selfish, especially since she knew he needed to rest and he clearly hadn’t been doing that, but she wanted to spend a little bit of time with him. They hadn’t really gotten to after the king had invited them down for lunch. Teagan and Alistair had both been full of questions for her and Dorian since she had asked him to join as well.

            Everyone wanted to know what had happened in Redcliffe, down to the smallest details. She was thankful that she and Dorian had had a chance after they’d gotten back to discuss what had happened. More importantly what they were going to tell people. Enough to satisfy but not so much that they would be locked away for being insane. They both agreed that the Inquisition had to know about this but they weren’t sure when they were going to get to Haven. There was the matter of all the mages to deal with and so they had agreed to keep details to a minimum.

            But the king had solved that problem, giving them sanctuary since neither Fiona nor Alexius were in control anymore. She hadn’t expected it to go that smoothly but Alistair was reasonable enough and Teagan, although quite miffed about the whole affair, was pleased that it had been taken care of, with minimal bloodshed. She knew the stories of Redcliffe, from the last Blight, and she was glad that she had prevented the streets from running red. As were they.

            Her hands shook as that brought violent images to the forefront of her mind. Red lyrium, the rift, Cassandra and Bull. No. It never happened. It was never going to happen. She was going to make sure of it and-Her head snapped up when the door opened. “H-Hi,” she whispered.

            Cullen blinked slowly at her and she felt horrible. He had been sleeping. It was still early, only a few hours after dinner, but he had pushed himself too much in the time they’d been apart and she had told him to turn in. She had promised him to simply play with the mabari puppies Alistair and Teagan had shown her. He’d agreed and she was sure it was because he thought that king, Arl, and Ser Barris would be enough to keep her from getting into trouble again. The fact that Dorian had disappeared after dinner had probably helped as well. “Elora,” he said before yawning widely enough for his jaw to crack. “Is something wrong?”

            “No, I just thought that maybe you’d want a snack.” She bobbled the plate so he could see that she wasn’t lying. “You didn’t eat much at dinner and I thought you might be a little peckish.”

            He ran a hand over his hair and her heart did a little flip at how messy it was, how much it was curling. Oh. Oh, she’d been able to see the waves in it before no matter what he had done to it but the curls? Her fingers twitched against the plate, wanting to be buried back in them. “I am a little hungry,” he admitted, “but not enough for all of that.”

            Elora shifted on her feet, her free hand toying with the hem of her sweater. “Oh, well, I thought maybe, and feel free to say no, that you’d maybe want to…share?”

            He stared at her and she wondered if she’d actually said any of that. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she should let him sleep. Simply give him the snack and go try to get some rest herself. The room Teagan had given her was ridiculous and that bed! She was wondering if there was any way she could smuggle it out of the castle without him noticing. He surely wouldn’t mind if one little-large-bed went missing. “Elora?”

            She jerked, moving both hands to the plate to make sure she didn’t drop it. “Sorry, what?”

            Her cheeks heated as he chuckled softly. “I said I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

            “Oh, good! Okay! I can come in then?” she asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

            His smile was entirely lopsided and she couldn’t blame all of it on the scar. “Unless you wanted to eat out here?”

            Elora pressed her lips together and hurried into his room when he stepped back to let her in. She glanced around quickly, noticing that it was set up almost exactly like hers. She told herself that she didn’t notice the rumpled sheets on the bed as she went over to the chairs. Setting the plate down, she cuddled into the chair on the right. The other had a book open over the arm so she assumed it was his and tried to get a peek at the title.

            She waited for him to follow, a little concerned when it took longer than she anticipated. But the gentle clink of glass against wood had her looking to see two cups and a pitcher of water set on the table beside the food. “Thank you,” she murmured, reaching out to fill the cups while he sank into the other chair with a groan.

            “Mm,” he mumbled, stretching out his legs in front of him. “I feel like I haven’t stopped moving in the last two months. It’s strange to be still.”

            “You mean it’s strange to be safe,” Elora said quietly, sipping at the water. It was only slightly cool but it was refreshing enough.

            Cullen sighed deeply. “Yes. Maker, we haven’t had an easy time of it the last little while, it’s a wonder I got any sleep at all.”

            “Did you?” she asked. “Because it doesn’t look like it from here.”

            He made a face. “Not as much as I should have,” he admitted. “Someone decided that I would be the perfect person to put in charge after everything that happened. Probably because I was one of the few Templars of rank left in the city that hadn’t lost their minds or disappeared.”

            “Or they did it because they knew you could lead,” she gently offered.

            His snort was sharp as he shook his head. “Making me Knight-Commander was a power play,” he muttered, staring at the fireplace. “Nothing more.”

            She had to set the cup down and the water sloshed inside it as it hit the wood harder than she had meant to. “Knight-Commander?” she squeaked. “They made you Knight-Commander of Kirkwall?”

            Cullen slanted a look at her. “Yes,” he muttered. “Didn’t even tell me outright. Found out through Templars coming to Kirkwall from Starkhaven.”

            Elora was staring but she couldn’t help it. Knight-Commander. He was a Knight-Commander?!

            “I didn’t do anything to deserve the title, Elora. It was given to me because of everything that happened and-”

            “It’s still Knight-Commander!” she protested. “Cullen, they don’t just _give_ that to people! Someone chose you to have it and I highly doubt it was lightly. How long were you working with Cassandra? Isn’t she Right Hand of the Divine? How do you know she didn’t say something? Wouldn’t she have had to say something about why she was staying in Kirkwall, partnered with a Templar for so long?”

            He squirmed in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “I preferred the thought that it was a random decision.”

            “Well I don’t. Knight-Commander. Sweet Maker, I…I don’t even know what to say,” she breathed.

            “How about we talk about something else? Because that doesn’t really matter now.”

            Elora’s head tipped to the side before her stomach did something funny. Cassandra, future Cassandra, had told her that he’d joined the Inquisition, but not when he had made the decision. It would appear that he had made it. “The Inquisition,” she said softly.

            He turned to look at her, his brows drawn. “I won’t force you to follow me, Elora,” he said, “but I think it would be the best for you. Or at least I did before you made yourself Grand Enchanter.”

            “I’m not Grand Enchanter!” she squeaked, shaking her head. “Holy Maker, no! There’s no official leader for the mages! Some of the senior enchanters are working together as a type of council while they get their feet back under them and maybe then they’ll pick someone to be in charge. But it isn’t me!”

            “You’re the one that saved them from the magister.”

            “What in the Void do I know about leading?” she demanded, panicked at the very thought of being in charge of all those people. “Mages are cranky, spoiled children and I don’t want to be the one that has to deal with them!”

            Cullen was chuckling before she was finished, shaking his head. “You might not have a choice. What are you going to do if that council decides that you’re best for leading them?”

            “Tell them fuck no!” she said before flushing when his brows snapped up. “Uhm, sorry. It’s a bad habit I picked up from Yoney.”

            “To what? Swear when you’re stressed? I’m pretty sure that’s just a part of being alive, Elora.”

            Except she usually tried really hard not to swear. Being thrown into the future had pushed all of her buttons in the worst way possible and she had cracked. She hadn’t had time to put that all back in the formal box so she was still slipping. At least she hadn’t sworn in front of the king. She had a bad feeling that while he might have enjoyed it, she would never live it down.

            “It’s not a bad thing,” Cullen continued when she didn’t speak. “I’m just not used to you swearing.”

            She shrugged and fiddled with her sleeve. “Oh, thank you by the way,” she said, looking back up at him.

            “For?” he prompted, reaching over to pluck a small sandwich off the plate.

            “For my clothes. You didn’t have to do that.”

            His attention turned solely to the food in his hands and he mumbled something.

            “I really appreciate it,” she continued, watching as he hunkered down deeper into the chair.

            “It really isn’t much,” Cullen protested finally. “Just what you had in your locker.”

            “It’s still better than nothing.” And she wouldn’t ever be able to tell him how ecstatic she’d been when he’d given her the small bag that had her purse and the clothes she had stashed at the Barracks before they’d gone to the Mire. She’d been so excited about her alumni sweater and the pair of exercise pants that’d she had gone to her room immediately to change into them. She’d been stuck in fatigues for too long and even though she’d been given clothes after they’d gotten back from the future, they hadn’t sat well since they were a little small. “And how many people would have taken the time to actually get that for me?”

            If anything that seemed to embarrass him further. He was eating his sandwich without looking at her, staring at the fireplace.

            Elora smiled faintly, picking up her own sandwich to nibble on. She did want to talk with him and continuing to embarrass him would do the complete opposite of that. “You said you grew up near Redcliffe didn’t you?” she asked after a few moments to let him collect himself.

            “Mm, a little further south-west,” he admitted, sounding like he was relieved she had changed the subject.

            “I didn’t realise there was further south,” Elora teased gently.

            He snorted. “You were in the Mire. You know there’s further south.”

            “I’m also not ever planning on going back to the Mire, thank you.”

            He actually chuckled this time. “Even still, that’s east, not west. I grew up outside of Honnleath. It’s small,” he continued when she made a curious noise. “Not many outside of Ferelden have usually heard of it.”

            “Did you grow up on a farm?”

            “Yes, actually.”

            “Wait, seriously?” she said in surprise.

            Cullen smiled faintly as he picked up his cup. “There’s not much to do in Honnleath beyond farm,” he admitted. “Well, if you didn’t live in town. The tourism usually kept it afloat but it was all farmland around it. Or it was. Before the Blight.”

            Her breath caught as his voice cracked on the last word. Maker, this wasn’t the kind of conversation she wanted to have right now. Not when she had so much bad rattling around her skull, trying to pull her under if she wasn’t careful. She wanted light, teasing, normal. “I’ve never been on a farm,” she admitted. “Never really thought about it until now. Makes sense though. My parents wouldn’t have ever taken me to one before I was sent to the Academy and then I was at the school. Even when I wasn’t, there weren’t really a lot of farms around Kirkwall. Which, where did we even get all of our food from? Did they import all of it?”

            “I honestly have no idea.”

            She puffed out her cheeks, her turn to stare at the fire place.

            “But, if you wanted to, maybe someday I could take you to Honnleath.”

            She could hear the slight hesitation in his voice and she wasn’t sure if it was because he thought she would say no or if it was because this wasn’t something he had thought he would ever say. But she knew her answer. “I would really like that,” she murmured, smiling at him.

            Cullen seemed to relax in his chair, the tension in him bleeding out as he smiled back.

            “I’d offer to take you to Ostwick but it’s not as exciting as a farm.”

            “Maybe to you,” he murmured. “A farm is just a farm.”

            “But it’s open and free and not restricted by walls, which Ostwick is. Two of them! Qunari attack once and we get uber paranoid. Double walls around the city and there go all the views. Although the school was high enough that you could see if your dorm was on the upper levels. I got a good room right before I graduated, could see the harbour and all the boats and ships and the open water. It was amazing and I didn’t want to give it up when they gave me a new room after I got my researching grant.”

            Cullen didn’t say anything and she nervously continued.

            “The new room was pretty good but the floor was always so noisy with all the other researchers there and I didn’t like it. I was used to the relative quiet, the stricter rules of the dorms. But that was complete chaos and I didn’t like it. How can you work if your office or workspace or your room was a mess? You’d be more likely to set yourself on fire or blow up a wing of the building if you did. Not that I ever did. Blow up a wing I mean. Maker knows I’ve set my clothes on fire before and-”

            “Elora.”

            The quiet way he said her name had her stumbling to a stop, her gaze jerking back to him. He was watching her, his expression torn between amusement at her babbling and something more. It had been there right before he had kissed her earlier, both times, and now it was back on his face. It was calm but she knew that was a lie. A man did not kiss like that if he was calm. There had been passion and want behind both of his kisses. Now it was there in his eyes.

            She knew she had been babbling but she didn’t really think it was her fault. She had missed him and then he had kissed her. Twice. It had sent her thoughts into a tailspin. It was hard not to think about it all day when it was the only thing she had wanted on her mind. Why would she want to talk with a king when the man she knew she was falling for had kissed her? Of course, doubts had slipped in as they always did and she had wondered if maybe it had been an accident, an overflow of the happiness of both of them being alive and relatively well. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had second thoughts about her. She knew better than to get her hopes up, but she had and thought that maybe, just maybe, Cullen might want her back.

            When he didn’t say anything more, just kept watching her quietly, she felt her heart start to pound. Did he want her to make the first move this time? Was he waiting for her to respond to what he had started? How was she supposed to know what he was thinking unless he said something? Or was he thinking the same things she was, scared that his feelings wouldn’t be returned and unsure of how to proceed? Didn’t he remember that the third kiss she had started and-

            Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands flex around the arms of his chair and she threw caution to the wind. “Oh, fuck it,” she breathed, standing.

            A low noise rumbled out of him as she took the two steps to put her in front of his chair before he sucked in a breath sharply as she straddled his lap. “Elora,” he whispered.

            His head was tipped back to look at her and she took advantage of that. Dropping her head, she kissed him, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see if he had changed his mind. But his arms banded around her, palms flat against her back and pressing her closer. She whimpered against his lips and fisted her hands in his shirt. Yes. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted.

            She mumbled a protest as he pulled slightly back from her but it died as he caught her lower lip with his teeth. Trembling as he gently nipped at her, she shifted on the chair, trying to get closer to him. “Cullen,” she breathed.

            His eyes flicked up to hers, warm amber that made her heart melt. He let go of her lip, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth. She arched toward him as he ran his hand down her back, pushing gently on her. “Maker’s breath,” he murmured. “You’re actually here, aren’t you?”

            She nodded. “Have you…thought about this before?” she asked.

            The faint lines on either side of his eyes crinkled as he chuckled. “I don’t think I should tell you that.”

            Meaning yes. That made her heart leap and she wound her arms around his neck. “Kiss me again?” she breathed.

            “I can do that,” he agreed. “I can definitely-” He chuckled against her as she kissed him before he could finish his sentence.

            Humming softly, Elora didn’t resist him as he cupped the back of her head, tilting her how he wanted her. His mouth was moving against hers, languidly like he had all the time in the world to kiss her. While that was nice and she enjoyed it, she wanted the passion she had barely gotten a taste of earlier.

            She felt him tense against her when her tongue flicked against his lips but she barely had a chance to wonder if she had done too much, too fast, when he groaned desperately. His lips parted under hers and the hunger she had felt before surged to life in him. He pressed forward out of the chair, his hands bracing her as she wobbled above him.

            Elora shivered as his mouth moved against hers, clutching at his back. His kiss was heady, making her thoughts spin before they left her completely. His hands were moving over her back, along her sides and she wasn’t surprise when they slid down to the hemline of her sweater. They hesitated there, his kiss slowing slightly as if he were asking permission. Maker, how was he still thinking? She squirmed on his lap, making him groan again and his hands slipped under her sweater.

            “Oh, Maker,” he breathed against her as his palms settled on nothing but skin.

            She kissed him quickly to get his attention again but she was hyper aware of his roughened palms sweeping up her back and across her hips. A yelp left her when he snapped her bra lightly, jerking in his lap. “That’s not funny,” she mumbled, pouting at him.

            He was watching her with a soft smile on his lips as he gently stroked the skin just under her bra. It was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he was looking at her like that. His lashes fell as she moved to trail her hands down his chest before running them back up to curl around his shoulders. His brows drew together when she shifted on his lap again, his lips parting on a quick inhale.

            Elora wasn’t doing any better. That last movement had let her know just how much he liked having her in his lap. Rolling her hips over him, she moaned as she felt his erection through their clothes. She gasped when his hands came down to her hips, squeezing her tightly. But he made no effort to stop her so she kept moving.

            Her grip moved to the back of his chair as she let her hips move a little more freely. Andraste have mercy on her, she couldn’t stop, not when she could feel him, could actually feel the evidence of his want. Not when he was tugging her closer, pressing her harder against him. “Cullen,” she whispered.

            “Don’t stop,” he moaned. “Elora, don’t stop.”

            A sigh shivered out of her and she pushed her hips down. The material of her pants was thin and she was stretching the fabric from how she was kneeling over him so it was easy to feel like there was little between them. The fly of his pants was rubbing against her as she ground down against him, but all it did was make her want more. She mumbled a protest when his hands left her before she gasped as he tugged at her sweater. There was barely time to let go of the chair as he pulled it up and off of her, tossing it aside quickly.

            His fingers busied themselves with her loose ponytail, tugging her hair free and she squirmed as the curls teased her skin. “Maker’s breath,” Cullen whispered. “Elora, I-”

            She leaned forward to kiss him again, not really wanting him to talk right now. She hadn’t expected that, hadn’t had anything nice to wear when she had come to see him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him looking at her right now. But she knew she definitely liked him touching her as his palms slid down her back again, stroking and grasping as she started grinding against him again.

            He was pushing up against her now, bucking his hips and lifting her off his lap. His hands settled on her waist, fingers fanned out on her back while his thumbs rubbed circles against her sides. She whimpered against him when his pinky fingers dipped below the waistband of her pants, stroking and teasing before slipping back out.

            He wanted to tease did he? She could do that. She could more than do that. Her hands slid back down and she worked them between where their bodies were rocking together. She felt his hips stutter under her as she lifted away, a whine leaving him that she shushed after a moment of stunned silence.

            She wasn’t ready for him to suddenly catch her hands and press them to his stomach. She could feel the muscles under the fabric quivering, clenching and flexing as he kept her trapped there. “Cullen?” she murmured as his head fell back against the chair.

            He mumbled something, squeezing her hands slightly.

            She took the moment to study him, letting her eyes run over him without shame. His hair was a complete mess and it made her smile to see it so out of place. Her fingers twitched against his stomach, wanting to run through the loose curls. Her gaze wandered down and she frowned slightly. He had looked tired earlier, when he had first found her, but it seemed worse now. And his flush didn’t seem like it was entirely from desire. “Cullen, what’s wrong?” she asked softly.

            A weak laugh left him and she stilled as she heard the edge in it. “You’re half naked in my lap and you’re asking me what’s wrong,” he muttered. “Can’t anything go right?”

            “Talk to me,” she encouraged. “I…I didn’t mean for this to go that far. I’m sorry about that.”

            His eyes opened to stare at her. “Don’t apologize for that,” he said quietly, his grip on her hands gentling and his thumbs rubbing against her. “It’s not that. It’s not _you_.”

            “That’s a switch.”

            Confusion flooded his expression and she looked away. She hadn’t meant to say that. “Elora, I’m serious,” Cullen continued after a moment. “I…I didn’t tell you everything about Kirkwall and I’m scared this is related to that.”

            “This? Kissing me?” she said in a small voice, suddenly very scared that she had made a mistake.

            “No,” he said sharply before sighing. “I’m making a mess of this. My thoughts about you…I had them before Kirkwall. I don’t know when they started but I know that I was definitely not thinking about my partner while I was gone. Except I was because that’s what you are and…Maker, I missed you. Not because I knew you’d have my back, but because I liked having you nearby. I liked talking with you, listening to you talk, and I didn’t have any of that. I should have kissed you before I left then maybe this would make more sense.”

            “Or less because I really wouldn’t have let you leave without me,” Elora added. “Or if you had, I would have been so confused.”

            “Because we aren’t confused now?” Cullen sighed again. “I wanted to kiss you,” he repeated. “I know that but this….”

            Elora pressed her lips together to try not to let a pained noise leave her. She gently tugged on her hands, wondering where her shirt had gotten to. If she left now, before he’d really gotten a good look at her, maybe she’d be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow. But he didn’t let her go. If anything, his hands tightened again. “Cullen, if you don’t want this, you need to let go so I can go,” she said quietly.

            “Go?” he echoed. “I don’t want you to leave.”

            She finally looked back at him, not understanding. “But I thought….”

            He let go of one of her hands to stroke her cheek and tease her curls for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave,” he repeated. “Far from it. It’s just this is….”

            “A little fast?” she offered as relief flooded her.

            Cullen smiled faintly at her. “Not only that but there’s still so much we have to talk about. I made decisions while we were apart and you might not agree with them. You might not want anything to do with me when you find out.”

            “I doubt it.” Unless he’d murdered babies in their sleep or something equally horrible, she wasn’t going to let go of him. Reaching up, she cupped his face, feeling the stubble on his skin against her palm. She watched as he turned into the touch, his sigh moving over her. “I should still get up so that I can put on a shirt and we can talk? Actually catch up since we haven’t had a lot of time to do that?”

            Since she was looking at his face she saw his gaze dip down and didn’t miss the way his tongue passed over his lips. “I probably have a shirt you could wear,” he offered, looking back up at her face.

            “Or I could stay like this if you’d prefer?” she teased and laughed when colour danced across his cheeks. “Maybe pose a little? Do a dance?”

            “Maker’s breath, no,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

            Elora laughed outright, feeling a million times better for it. But it died when his arms slid around her and he stood up. “Cullen!” she shrieked, clinging to him.

            It was his turn to laugh as he crossed the room before setting her down next to the bed. His hands slid against her sides and he lingered for a moment before moving over to the open duffel bag on the floor. “Here,” he said, coming back to her with a shirt in his hands.

            “You really want me to stay?” she asked softly.

            His smile was gentle as he nodded. “I don’t want you to leave yet. Even if we don’t talk, I’d still like you to stay.”

            She suddenly felt shy as she took his shirt and slipped it on. It was huge on her but she didn’t say anything about that, shaking out her hair once it was settled. “Better?” she teased.

            He didn’t say anything, catching her face with his hands to tip her up to him. Her hands landed on his chest as he kissed her slowly and she was surprised to feel his heart thundering under her palm. She mewled softly when he rubbed his nose against hers, inhaling deeply before he kissed the tip of her nose. “Better,” he agreed.

            Now was it better because the temptation was gone or was it because she was wearing _his_ shirt?


	19. Hurry

 

            The steady hum of the car’s motor was soothing but Cullen knew he wasn’t going back to sleep. He’d managed to catch a quick nap and although he didn’t feel great, it had helped a little. It probably would have been better if he’d actually managed to get more than a few hours of sleep the night before instead of staying up late but he hadn’t expected to be leaving for Haven the next day.

            His arm tightened around Elora when she shifted against him, sighing in her sleep. Well, at least she was managing to get some rest. Neither of them had been overly impressed when someone had knocked early in the morning to inform them that they were expected at breakfast. Or at least Cullen had been since they couldn’t have known Elora was there. They’d spent hours talking the night before and instead of her going back to her room, she had simply passed out next to him. He hadn’t had the heart to move her, not wanting her out of his sight just yetand knowing she needed to rest. He had eventually fallen asleep beside her and woken up to find her curled up against his back, snuggled in as tightly as she could get.

            He would never admit to her that he had feigned sleeping when she had started to stretch and wake up because he hadn’t wanted her to move away yet. She had but only for a second before she had hesitantly cuddled back into him. When her fingers had threaded through his, he’d held on, never wanting to get up.

            But now they were all packed into the car Barris had driven down to Redcliffe on their way to Haven. Because it seemed like the world wasn’t going to wait to fall apart.

            “Are you certain you know the way?”

            “I’ve been there before. A little over a week ago, in fact. I’m fairly certain I do know the way.”

            “There’s barely a road. How do you know we’re on a road?”

            Cullen shook his head, turning to let his cheek rest on Elora’s head. It had been like this before he’d fallen asleep as well. He didn’t know what was going on with Dorian but he seemed to have a comment for everything. He also wasn’t completely sure why they were even bringing the Tevinter mage with them. But Elora had insisted that he was coming with. She had only glossed over what had happened in Redcliffe, telling him that Dorian helped her overthrow the magister and that he was trustworthy. Beyond that she hadn’t told him a lot about what had happened. He’d tried to get her to talk about her hand, about the bandage around it, but she’d shied away from it.

            He tipped his chin down a bit. Her left hand was resting on his leg, the bandage clear as day. What had she done? Or rather what had happened? She’d fussed over all of his injuries but hadn’t let him do anything like that with her in return. She had insisted she was okay even if he knew it wasn’t true. Those shadows Alistair had talked about had crept into her eyes several times while they’d talked and all he’d wanted to do was banish them. But he hadn’t known how beyond changing the subject. It had seemed to help a little, distract her for just long enough that she could at least forget for a bit.

            But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t curious, that he didn’t want to know. Because he needed to know. He knew he hadn’t told her everything that had happened in Kirkwall but she had barely told him anything about what had happened to her, either in Haven or there in Redcliffe.

            His free hand started to reach for her before he let it drop. He’d wait for her to tell him when she was ready. There wasn’t much point in forcing the issue now, not when he wanted to let her rest as much as she could. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply. He needed to take comfort from what he had right now, her in his arms and both of them safe and alive. Only a week ago that hadn’t been so sure. For all he knew, he could only have it for a very short time and he shouldn’t take it for granted.

            Cullen’s arm tightened around her, trying to move closer. There really wasn’t room between them and with their seat belts it wasn’t easy to get comfortable. If it weren’t for the fact that he knew they needed to get to Haven, he’d say they should take a break. The drive between Redcliffe and the town wasn’t that long; they could rest when they got to their destination.

            Elora made a noise in her sleep, rubbing against him. “Mm, Cullen?” she mumbled.

            His heart leapt into his throat. He wasn’t sure he was going to get used to her saying his name. Especially not sleepily like that, her voice heavy and accent thick. “Go back to sleep, Elora,” he said softly.

            She sighed deeply and slumped against him a little more.

            Kissing the top of her head, Cullen lingered for a moment. How had he gotten so lucky that he’d survived Kirkwall and found her again? How had he gotten so lucky that she was in his arms, that she wanted to be there? More than that, she had let him kiss her and kissed him back. Had done more than kiss him.

            He inhaled sharply at the stab of desire that ripped through him as he thought about that. He could still feel her; her warm weight in his lap, the wet slide of her tongue against his, her soft skin under his hands. Maker help him, the way she looked without her shirt on. He hadn’t expected that, but he should have. He’d picked her up before, held her close against him, with and without her gear on. He had thought, in those weak moments where he had let himself think about it, that he had had a good idea of what she would look like. He had fallen woefully short of the breasts that had been cupped by black material, not coming even close in his wistful imaginations. His thoughts had blanked for a long moment, turning to all the fantasies he had gotten so very wrong, and it had been long enough to let things go further than he’d meant to.

            But he didn’t regret feeling her move against him, the slow rocks of her hips against his, the passion that had flooded him, the want for more. He didn’t even regret her hands wandering down to tug on his belt. He’d wanted it in that brief moment where his mind had been so elated that she wanted it as well but apparently his body had thought otherwise. That first tug on his belt had been followed by a sharp pain as his body had reminded him that an elevated heartrate wasn’t the greatest when he was denying himself lyrium and sleep. He’d been worried that they wouldn’t be able to get past that, that he had led her on when he hadn’t meant to. But it had turned out alright in the end.

            “We’re almost there,” Barris said from the front seat, pitching his voice toward Cullen and pulling him out of his thoughts.

            He looked out the front window, seeing not only the mountain the Temple of Sacred Ashes had been on, but the glowing green hole in the sky. How was he supposed to lead people when he didn’t know what they were fighting? How were they supposed to fight a hole in the sky? What could they-

            His gaze dropped when Elora shifted against him, a small whimper leaving her. He couldn’t see most of her face but it looked like her brows were drawn, her lips pressed together. Was she having a nightmare? Rubbing her back, he gently murmured, “Shh, Elora. I’m right here. It’s okay.”

            It seemed to work, another small noise leaving her as she turned her face into his neck.

            He frowned when something wet struck his skin. Was she crying? “Elora,” he breathed, wondering if he should undo one of their belts to get closer to her. Should he wake her up? She wasn’t resting anymore so letting her sleep through a nightmare might not be kind.

            Cullen jerked when Elora suddenly cried out, lurching back from him before she hunched over on the seat. “Elora!”

            “No, no, no, no, no!” she screamed. “Make it stop! Make it stop!”

            Reaching out for her, Cullen had barely put his hands on her before she screamed again. “Stop the car!” he barked.

            He felt the car jerk to the side before it stopped but his focus was on Elora as she kept babbling for it to stop. His gaze snapped up when the door opposite him swung open and Dorian crawled into the backseat. “What’s going on?” he demanded of the man.

            “What did she tell you?” Dorian asked, gently helping Cullen make Elora sit up.

            “Nothing. She told me nothing!” Frustration welled in him at that. If she was hurt, why hadn’t she actually told him? He didn’t have magic to heal her but he could have tried to help in whatever way he could. They could have gone to find a healer since there had been mages all over Redcliffe. Did she think that he wasn’t as worried about her wellbeing as she had been about his?

            Dorian swore sharply. “She didn’t tell you about this?” he demanded, holding onto her left hand.

            Cullen shook his head, watching as the other man gently uncurled her fingers from the fist she had them clenched into. “I assumed she was hurt but she wouldn’t talk about it.”

            “Fool,” Dorian snapped.

            Cullen bristled at the insult, unsure if it was aimed at him or Elora. But his stomach hit his boots as Dorian unwrapped the bandage from around her hand. “What is that?” he spat, staring in horror at the green mark rippling against her skin. What in the Void was it?! Some kind of magic?

            “We don’t know. All we do know it’s tied to the Breach, that gaping hole in the sky.”

            “The Breach?” Cullen repeated, staring in horror at the mark writhing on her palm.

            “Make it stop!” Elora yelled, twisting on the seat and trying to pull her hand away from Dorian.

            “We have to get to Haven,” Dorian said. “We have to get there now.”

            “What? Why?”

            He sighed harshly but the car was moving, Barris clearly following orders better than Cullen. “She told you we confronted Alexius, yes? Did she tell you that he also used magic tied to the rifts that threw us into the future? That we saw the ruin and devastation of the world because of whatever happened to the sky?”

            Cullen stared at him. “Time travel?” he echoed. “I don’t know what they teach you in Tevinter but that is impossible.”

            “Normally yes, but with a huge gaping hole in the sky that leads into the Fade? It would seem that a great many things that should be impossible are no longer so.”

            He shook his head, still not convinced. “Even if that were true, what does that have to do with anything?”

            “This,” Dorian said, grabbing Elora’s hand and making her sob in response, “is tied to the Breach, to the rifts, to everything that happened. And the people that created it want her because of it, mostly dead I would imagine.”

            Cullen hissed softly. That didn’t make any sense.

            “I walked in the Fade,” Elora whispered, her voice shaking. “I came out of a rift with this thing on my hand and then the Templars took me away.”

            He stared at her, his head pounding. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

            Watery eyes looked up at him and he could see her lower lip trembling. “I was scared,” she said in a small voice. “I’m still scared.”

            “Elora,” he groaned, “how am I supposed to help if you don’t tell me these things?”

            Her expression crumpled and she looked away from him. “I don’t think anyone can help.”

            He refused to believe that, not only because it couldn’t be true but because the simple thought of losing her sent a rush of terror through him. Turning her face back to him, he held her gaze as soon as it found his. “I’m not losing you,” he said firmly. “Not when I just got you.”

            Elora bit down on her lower lip as it trembled again, tears slipping down her cheeks. Her eyes squeezed shut as she took a shaking breath. But the fear was still on her face and he wasn’t sure what to do to get rid of it.

            Gently wiping away her tears, he pulled her forward and brushed his mouth over hers. “I’m not losing you,” he repeated when she peeked at him from under wet lashes. “We’ll figure this out, Elora. If it started at Haven, there will be answers there.”

            “I hope so,” she whispered.

            Cullen let his forehead rest against hers, his mind reeling. Why hadn’t she told him about this? He understood that it wouldn’t have been easy but why hadn’t she tried? When she whimpered, he shifted to kiss her forehead and kept his lips against her while she trembled. “What do you need from me?”

            “We need to get to Haven,” Dorian interrupted. “We saw members of the Inquisition in the future and they’ve been looking for Elora, just like the followers of the Elder One.”

            Exhaling slowly, Cullen pulled back from Elora but he didn’t get far as her unmarked hand latched onto his shirt. She fisted the material, tugging him back to her. “Elora,” he said softly.

            “You have every reason to say no,” she whispered, “especially since I didn’t tell you the truth about this. But please hold me?”

            He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, undoing her belt as he did. She came to him quickly, pressing her face back into his neck. He felt a shaking breath wash over his skin, her hand still tightly clasping his shirt and tugging slightly as if she wanted to get closer. His eyes flicked up to Dorian, seeing the mage staring hard at the pair of them. “Is there anything else I should know before we get to Haven?” Cullen said lowly.

            “You already know about the Venatori but I assume they’ll be set back now that they don’t have the mages. But if this Elder One is as bad as I think, he’s not going to give up. He’s going to come for Elora no matter what.”

            His arms tightened around her, as if he could keep her safe from the words. “If we get to the Inquisition, they’ll help?” He hated that he wasn’t sure about that but what else was there for him to think given none of this made any sort of sense.

            “I know they will,” Dorian confirmed. “We encountered some of them in the future and it sounds like the Inquisition is about the only force on the face of Thedas that has any chance of stopping what’s to come.”

            “You’re too melodramatic,” Barris muttered from the front seat.

            “Having seen what I have, I think I’m allowed. Between what the Venatori wanted to do in Redcliffe and what they are doing in the Western Approach, I am completely within my rights to be melodramatic.”

            Cullen had to stop himself from asking what was happening in Orlais. One problem at a time. They needed to fix what was going on here before he even thought about anything else. Elora was trembling against him and he could hear the mark on her hand crackling. It made his hair stand on end and his skin crawl so he could only image how she was feeling. What had happened that that would be on her? Did it have something to do with the explosion that had killed the Divine?

            His breath caught at that. No. It couldn’t have been. No one had survived the blast…but what had she said? That she’d been in the Fade? That she’d stepped out of a rift?

            Squeezing his eyes shut, he bowed his head over hers. Walked in the Fade? No one had done that since the magisters had cracked the Golden City. He wouldn’t think it was even possible but why would Elora lie about something like that? What reason was there to even remotely suggest that that could happen unless it had?

            “I’m sorry,” Elora whispered, her lips brushing against him.

            Words got stuck in his throat and he didn’t know what to say. Holding her closer, he focused on his breathing and not letting himself get too wound up. The Kirkwall surgeon, as much of an ass as he was, had told him that if he was serious about staying off of the lyrium he needed to avoid stress as much as possible. He hadn’t told the man that he was walking from one stressful job to another, there wasn’t any point. But if he could stay calm right now, maybe the pain wouldn’t overcome him so he could actually focus and help. He’d made it through other stressful situations with little more than a headache and a few sharp pains through his body, but the instinct to have lyrium after a fight, even if he hadn’t done anything to use it, was achingly strong. “Just breathe, Elora,” he murmured.

            Her breath shivered out of her and it sounded more like a whimper.

            “We’re almost there,” Barris said. “We’re already passing the blockades.”

            Cullen was glad that they’d called ahead, giving the Inquisition a head’s up that they were coming so it was unlikely that they’d be stopped on the road. When Elora cried out sharply as the mark snapped on her hand, he clenched his teeth and kept himself from telling the other man to drive faster.

            “Just a little longer,” Dorian soothed and he was surprised to see him rubbing Elora’s back. “You’ve already made it through so much, don’t stop now.”

            “Fuck,” she panted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

            Cullen heard Barris lay on the horn, looking up for a brief moment to see people scrambling to open a gate before they were through. They were in Haven and Elora was sobbing against him. “Help me with her,” he growled at Dorian.

            The mage carefully held her as Cullen slipped out of the car once they were stopped. Before he could reach in to get her out, he caught sight of someone running toward them. “Cassandra,” he said quickly, “good. We need your help.”

            “Cullen, what is-Elora?” she cut herself off, staring as he helped the Knight-Enchanter out of the car.

            Looping an arm around her waist, he fisted his hand in the material over her hip and hauled her up so she was standing. Or would have been if her feet had been on the ground. “We have a problem,” he said flatly.

            Her gaze darted between him and Elora before it fell down to Elora’s hand as it sparked to life again. “You,” she breathed. “You’re the one we’ve been hearing about?”

            Elora inhaled deeply, hiccupping at the end but she nodded. “Cassandra, I need to make it stop,” she said, her voice strained.

            The Seeker was staring hard at her and Cullen could almost hear the thoughts in her head. He knew what this looked like, knew what this had to look like. “Cassandra-”

            “We can speak later,” she dismissed. “Elora, what do you need?”

            He actually heard Elora swallow. “I need to get to the Breach,” she whispered and lifted her hand. “This is….”

            “It’s killing her,” Dorian said. “If she doesn’t make it stop, she’s going to die.”

            Cullen’s blood ran cold at that but Cassandra nodded. “There are others on the mountain, fighting the demons,” she said, coming forward. “We will join them and get you to the top, to the Breach. Can you walk?”

            “You have to put me down now,” Elora murmured.

            If anything his grip on her tightened at those words. “No, I’m going with you.”

            “Cullen, I need you here,” Cassandra said, shaking her head. “Leliana has organized the troops as best as she can in your absence but they need the Commander. I need you here.”

            His teeth clenched at that.

            “Cullen,” Elora whispered, “I’ll be with Cassandra. I’ll be okay.”

            He inhaled sharply through his nose, looking down at her. “We are having a long discussion when you come back,” he said lowly. “Because you are coming back.”

            She gave him a shaking smile but she nodded. He pretended he didn’t see the tears in her eyes as he gave her a short kiss. She wobbled as he set her down and his arm nearly snapped back around her. But Dorian beat him to it and he watched as he steadied her. “We need to go,” she said shortly. “Now before I can’t do this anymore.”

            Cassandra was eyeing Dorian but she nodded. “Come.” She looked at Cullen. “Ambassador Montilyet is coming and she will take you to the troops.”

            Exhaling slowly, Cullen rubbed his neck as he watched Elora hobble off after the Seeker, Dorian’s arm tight around her waist. Maker’s breath, what had she gotten herself into?

            “She’ll be alright, Ser,” Barris said quietly. “I’ve never seen someone survive so much and still walk away from it.”

            “Don’t say that,” he muttered. “You’ll jinx her.”

            Barris laughed softly. “Yes, Ser. But I didn’t think you were the type to believe in that sort of thing.”

            He blew out a breath, feeling a headache forming behind his eyes. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore,” he said quietly.

            “Commander?”

            Turning at the voice, he saw the smartly dressed woman coming toward him and nodded. “You must be the ambassador. Cullen Rutherford,” he said in greeting. “This is Ser Delrin Barris.”

            “Josephine Montilyet,” she agreed, nodding to them both. “Lady Pentaghast told me that you would be arriving today but I don’t think any of us expected this much fuss to come with it.”

            Cullen threw a look over his shoulder in the direction the small group had gone. “Me either,” he sighed. “Cassandra said you’d take me to the troops?”

            “Ah, yes. What with the Breach being uncontained, we have had countless casualties and several deserters. There have been a few who have joined since the Temple of Sacred Ashes was destroyed, but they are…few.”

            He nodded, aware of Barris following. “Has Knight-Captain Rylen arrived?” he asked, scanning the faces of people as they passed. Everyone was scared and rightly so. But if Elora could make it to the temple perhaps she could give these people some hope.

            “Not as yet. When should we expect him?”

            “Within the next few days,” Cullen said absently, his eyes narrowing. “How many of these people are actually soldiers?”

            “A fair number but I think most of the newest ones are untested.”

            Meaning raw recruits. His mouth twisted at that but he reminded himself that everyone had to start somewhere. Blowing out a breath, he asked, “Are the more seasoned soldiers up with Leliana?”

            She nodded. “We had a few Templars that remained with us while the others deserted. They took the others that knew how to fight up to the forward camp.”

            “I should be up there,” Cullen muttered. “What am I supposed to do down here while everything is happening up there?”

            “I can understand your frustration but I am merely relaying what I was told.”

            He felt bad suddenly. It wasn’t her fault he had gone to get Elora and found out that everything had gone completely wrong. It wasn’t her fault he hadn’t come here right away to help with the troops. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that the sky had been torn open and the world was going to shit. Blowing out a breath, he looked around. “Do you have the rosters of who’s joined and who’s deserted?” he asked, needing something to do but knowing that starting any sort of training now would be pointless. Not when the experienced soldiers were up the mountain.

            “I do. We’ve been using the Chantry as a base of operations,” she said, turning to lead him toward the gates into the town. “It’s the largest building in the town and also required the least amount of work, considering everything that happened here.”

            His mouth twisted. He had heard the stories, everyone had heard the stories. He hadn’t had much interest in them, too caught up in what had happened at Kinloch and his transfer to Kirkwall to really care. But he’d read about it well after the fact. “It’s disgusting to think that in this day and Age people were still practising human sacrifice,” he muttered.

            Josephine sighed, almost hugging her clipboard closer to her chest. “Among other things that still happen in our world,” she agreed.

            Cullen glanced over his shoulder at Barris. “If you wanted to rest, I wouldn’t blame you,” he told him. “I’m sure someone can find you-”

            “Begging your pardon, Ser,” he interrupted, “but the last time I left someone alone in Haven, the Temple of Sacred Ashes blew up. I’ll stay with you until the others get back.”

            Cullen stared at him for a bit, wondering if he was serious. When Barris simply kept looking back at him, he sighed. “I don’t get into as much trouble as Elora,” he muttered.

            “I’m not sure I believe that, Ser. I’m starting to think you’re a fairly well matched pair.”

            He made a face but followed Josephine up the stairs. Hopefully, after Elora did whatever she had to with the Breach, they wouldn’t be seeing as much trouble.


	20. Herald of Andraste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, there's a reference in here to my story A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Redcliffe. It's not a required read, was more written as a quick intro for how Dorian got to Redcliffe the way he did and also a way to bring another plot line in but it might be of interest because I will reference it a little more in the next few chapters.

 

_“It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”_

_“Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley.”_

_“Herald of Andraste.”_

_“The important thing is you glow.”_

_“My Lady, you’re the wounded party in this unfortunate affair.”_

_“Herald of Andraste.”_

_“I’ve been ordered to join the Inquisition, get close to the people in charge, and send reports on what’s happening.”_

_“Herald of Andraste.”_

            Elora closed her eyes with a sigh as the words rolled through her thoughts. It had been a hectic two weeks. Between trekking up the mountain, losing more days because she had passed out, and then being sent to ridiculous corners of the map she was completely done with everything. But she wasn’t allowed to be done, no, the mark on her hand demanded that she be front and centre of everything that the Inquisition now did. It demanded she take on a title she had never wanted.

            This hadn’t been what she’d expected when Cullen had quietly talked to her about joining the Inquisition with him. She had thought that she would maybe help around Haven, organize the mages that were here or help with the healers if she could. Not be at the head of the bloody thing as some kind of agent of the Inquisition with Andraste’s name tagged on at the end of hers.

            “You alright, Trev?”

            She barely lifted her head from the window as she turned to look at the speaker. “Define alright, Varric,” she muttered.

            “Well, you’re alive for starters, that’s got to count for something.”

            Scrunching up her face, Elora slumped forward before leaning back in her seat. “I’m alright,” she corrected. “I’m just…tired.”

            “Understandable. That War Council has had you running across the country recruiting pretty much nonstop since you woke up.”

            “They don’t like being called that,” she said primly. “They are a council of advisors.”

            “Who happen to be advising about a war making them a War Council.”

            Elora couldn’t help her smile at the dry note in his voice. “You try to tell them that, Varric. When I did, I just got dirty looks.”

            He chuckled. “You so sure that’s a good idea since Curly’s in the front seat.”

            “And I can hear you both just fine,” Cullen said absently.

            They shared a look before Elora rolled her eyes. It was mostly to cover the way her mood sank at the absent tone in Cullen’s voice. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk since they had gotten to Haven. She’d seen him in the council, heard him in passing, and had a brief chance to talk to him before she’d had to go to Orlais to deal with what was left of the Chantry but even then there had been that Chancellor so it hadn’t been the two of them. She had tried to talk to him but there hadn’t been time, either she was needed or he was and there wasn’t a time when either of them could just…be.

            Looking down at her hands, she tried not to pick at the left one. It wasn’t wrapped any more, there wasn’t much point in it honestly. Everyone knew what was on her palm now, even if they didn’t know what it was. Solas seemed to be the one to know best but even he was drawing blanks on it. To make matters worse, the group leading the Inquisition had decided that pouring more power into the mark was the way to go to properly seal the Breach.

            “Because you didn’t do it right the first time, Elora,” she muttered. “Do it better or don’t do it at all.”

            “Herald?”

            She glanced at the front seat when she saw that Cullen and Cassandra were both looking at her. “Uh, hi,” she said weakly, knowing she was flushing.

            “We’ve reached the camp,” Cassandra said, thankfully ignoring Elora’s embarrassment. “We should check in with the soldiers here before we try to make contact.”

            “Sounds good,” Elora said, opening her door and quickly getting out of the vehicle. She had to shade her face immediately as the sun beat down on her and she wanted to climb back into the air conditioned car as soon as she was out. “Western Approach. Fucking Void, what am I doing out here?”

            “Thanks for thinking of me when you decided to come out here,” Varric said as he walked past her, heading toward the tents that were set up in the relative shade. “I appreciate it.”

            Elora grimaced before quickly following him as she heard the doors close behind her.

            “Herald?”

            “Be right back!” she called. Shit. Didn’t she want to talk to Cullen? Hadn’t she just been thinking about the fact that they never got to talk anymore? So what was she doing running away from him?

            She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time. They were following a lead and maybe after they were done there would be a little time to talk about…. Maker, what were they even going to talk about? Right now they were in the middle of the biggest shit storm Thedas had seen since the Fury Age had decimated the entire continent. Was there going to be a time to talk about what had happened in Redcliffe? Or was it just going to stay there, a pleasant memory but only that? A one time thing that they didn’t talk about?

            _“You know what you’re good for and-”_

            “No,” she breathed, cutting off that thought before it could even fully form.

            Ducking under the flap of the main tent, she smiled weakly as people addressed and saluted her, wishing they wouldn’t. But she knew she had to smile, had to respond in some way. These people were looking at her like some kind of beacon of hope and she had to maintain that front. Even if she wanted to run into the hills to hide.

            “Herald?”

            Elora stopped at the voice. “Harding?” she said in surprise, looking at the speaker. “What are you doing here?”

            The dwarf smiled at her. “I joined the Inquisition,” she said proudly. “After the Mire, I went back to the Hinterlands for a little while but with everything going on I decided that I was better off helping the Inquisition. Turns out for as much support as they had from the Chantry, there weren’t many that knew a lot of areas so I volunteered to scout and now here I am.”

            Elora returned the smile. “Well, it’s nice to see a familiar face because this is so overwhelming.”

            “Tell me about it. I couldn’t believe it when I heard that who was the Herald of Andraste.”

            Her smile faltered for a moment before she recovered. “How do you think I feel?” she said wryly but the words tasted like ash in her mouth. “So, do you have any idea of what direction we should be heading in?”

            “The area is full of bandits,” Harding said, waving her over to a table with a map spread out on it. “Army deserters, rogue Templars that split long before the war broke out, lyrium smugglers. You’ll see them all out here.”

            “Fantastic,” she muttered. “I’d heard stories about the lyrium runners. I’d hoped they were just that.”

            “Sadly no,” Harding sighed. “It’s probably worse. Between them and the gas guzzlers, you almost constantly have to watch your back. There’s traps out in the sand that they use to get to people who aren’t careful. They’ll strip the parts from your car and everything you own and-” Harding flinched and looked up at her. “I don’t suggest wandering off on your own, Herald.”

            Elora stared at her, her skin crawling. “Wasn’t planning on it,” she managed to say, “but, Harding? Please, it’s Elora.”

            “Don’t know if I should call you that,” she said quietly. “Not with your new position.”

            She swallowed her disappointment. So much for that. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s focus on where we’re supposed to be going.”

            “Based on the intel we could gather for the area and what Dorian provided us with, we’re pretty sure that the lead is located in this area.”

            Elora stared at the point that had a gloved finger resting on it. “That’s a long way out,” she said warily. “If we have to cross that, we’re going to be sitting ducks.”

  
            “There’s an established route we can use,” Cullen said suddenly from behind her. “It’s swept constantly for bombs and under surveillance.”

            “Wouldn’t that just make us easier to pick off?” she asked, still frowning at the map.

            “We’ll be careful; most of them don’t approach it because the Empress’ men patrolled it. Or at least they used to,” he added in a mutter. “Reports have been spotty about their presence out here lately, something about them focusing in the Exalted Plains.”

            “The Civil War is ill timed,” Cassandra agreed. “With all of the tension between the mages and Templars, this isn’t what we needed.”

            Elora twisted to look at her. “Please tell me we are not going to get involved in that,” she said weakly.

            Cassandra’s lips twitched. “I have little love for politics as well, Herald. Our focus is the hole in the sky and what caused it. I highly doubt that squabbling Orlesians are to blame.”

            “Okay but if the Orlesians aren’t patrolling out here shouldn’t we be a little more concerned about the road?”

            Cullen was standing next to her now and Elora fought the urge to move because she wasn’t sure if it was going to be closer or further away from him. Didn’t help matters that he was in fatigues again. When they’d been in Haven, he’d been moving through the small town in a leather jacket with a fur collar that she didn’t remember ever seeing and it was stupidly distracting. But she was a sucker for him in fatigues, but these were subtly different from the Templar ones he had worn before. Not enough to discourage her from wanting to take them off of him. More than that, she could smell him, the simple soap and that Maker damned scent all Templars had, former or otherwise. But it was different now or was that because they’d been apart for a while and she was forgetting what he smelt like? No, she wouldn’t have forgotten that, not when she wanted it all over her and-

            She swayed slightly on her feet, shifting toward him. She missed him still, had barely gotten one night with him before everything had fallen apart. Because she knew Knight-Captain and Knight-Enchanter had been closer than Commander and Herald were and she didn’t like it. Her breath caught when he glanced at her, her heart lodging in her throat. She should ask him to speak privately, to take a little bit of time before they went out into the sand dunes. Surely he’d say yes. Surely he had to want to talk to her as well.

            His eyes darted over her face. “Herald?”

            Swallowing her heart at the title, she waved her hand. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, turning from him. The tent was too crowded now even though there was plenty of space. “Tell me when we’re ready to go.”

            “Your tent is second on the right,” Harding called.

            Elora nodded and didn’t hesitate going to it. She threw herself on the cot inside, pressing her face into the pillow and considering screaming. Why did she do this to herself? The world could very well be ending and she was sulking over the fact that now Cullen wasn’t calling her by name. Was this how he had felt when she had used Captain as a wall between them? Maker was this what she got for doing that? Was that what he was doing? Building a wall because he thought he’d made a mistake?

            Making a loud noise into the pillow, she kicked her feet against the foot of the cot. Maker help her, she was such a fool!

            She turned to let her cheek rest on the pillow and blew out a breath. She hadn’t thought that it was possible for her to feel worse than she had, waiting for him to come back from Kirkwall, but knowing how he kissed, how he threw everything into it and stole her breath completely made it worse. Tracing patterns on the blankets, she stared absently across the tent. There was a second cot and she assumed it was for Cassandra because there was no way the Seeker was sharing a tent with Varric.

            Chewing on her lip, she briefly entertained the idea that maybe it would be Cullen sharing the tent with her before she shoved it away. Andraste’s ass, she needed to stop thinking about him. She needed to focus on something else, like why they were out here.

            Dorian had told her his story when they’d first met, before they’d gone to the future. But he’d brought it up again once she’d gotten back from Val Royeaux, with a pair of new people for the Inquisition. He’d told her about the man that had helped him, the man he had had to leave behind, the man known only as Freckles.

_“If you’re looking for people that are good in a pinch, he’s one that you’re going to want.”_

            It had taken her a few days to convince the Council to send her out here, once she had finished the various tasks they had set in front of her and put her foot down about it. Her major argument had rested on the fact that they didn’t have anything to do and if she was supposed to be bolstering the Inquisition forces, wasn’t this exactly what she was supposed to be doing?

            They hadn’t liked it, they didn’t have a lot of clearance in Orlais, but Josephine had gotten permission for them to perform an extraction. She had said that she’d made it sound like one of their allies had fallen on bad luck and they needed to recover him. Elora wasn’t sure how exactly she had spun it but she had gotten them permission to come to Orlais and attempt to find this person. It had impressed Elora because from what she remembered of Orlesians they weren’t the friendliest of folks and Josephine had gotten them what they wanted despite that.

            Pushing herself up so she was on the edge of the bed, she swung her feet through the air for a moment. Maker, she didn’t want to be out here and-

            “Herald?”

            Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed. “Yes?”

            “We’re ready to move out whenever you are.”

            “I’ll be right there,” she called.

            She listened as Cassandra walked away and took a deep breath. She needed to be on point for this. Someone’s life was in the balance and she needed to look at this like a standard issue rescue mission. Because that’s exactly what it was.

            Rubbing her mitts together, she left the tent and started toward the rover. She paused slightly when she saw Cullen waiting near the passenger door. “What are you doing?” she asked when she reached him.

            “I’m going with you.”

            Elora nearly took a step back at the firm note in his voice. “Why?” she said slowly. “You haven’t come with on any of the other runs I’ve done.” Shit, did she sound put out about it? Well she was but she didn’t need him knowing about it.

            “The situation hasn’t allowed for it but here? They don’t need me at the base camp so I can come with you.” Cullen paused, looking at her for a moment. “Unless you’d rather I stay here?”

            “I never said that,” she muttered, starting past him to get to her door.

            “Hey, wait-”

            “We should get going,” she cut in. “If Dorian’s right, his friend is going to need help sooner rather than later.”

            Cullen sighed. “You’re right, Herald.”

            Pursing her mouth, she silently screamed. She didn’t want to be right, she wanted him to stop her and say whatever he had wanted to. She wanted him to say fuck the mission and take her back into one of their tents to talk or kiss or do whatever they wanted to. But then he wouldn’t be the Cullen she knew. The mission came first and…someone’s life really was hanging in the balance right now.

            The rover started as soon as all the doors were closed, going further into the desert. Exactly where Elora didn’t want to go but it was her idea so she had to.

            Shifting in her seat, she pulled out her phone, turning it absently in her hands for something to do. It seemed to be going off nonstop, or at least it had until Varric had made a few calls to make her number unlisted and more than that, to block certain numbers from calling her. She owed him for that because she was still holding out hope that maybe her cousin would be the one calling her, not some newspaper looking for a story. He was the only reason no one had been able to convince her to change her phone number.

             But he hadn’t called or answered still and a small part of her was starting to whisper that he could be dead.

            “Hey, everything okay?”

            Elora shook her head, turning to the window. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to put her fears into words because that would make it true and she couldn’t handle that. Ionas meant too much to her for her to give up on him now.

            Her phone chimed in her hand and she frowned down at it. Turning the screen toward her, she jerked her eyes up to the front seat in confusion. Why was Cullen texting her when she was right here? She looked back down at her phone.

            _Are you okay?_

            Elora bit down on the inside of her cheek as her fingers moved over the screen. _Not really. Doesn’t matter right now, does it?_

            She quickly called up her settings, turning off the sound while she waited for him to text her back. It probably was completely obvious that she was texting someone but she just hoped that Varric didn’t catch on to what they were doing.

            _Of course it matters. Can I help?_

_Thank you but…no._

            She wasn’t sure what made her send that when she knew that talking with him for a little while would help, that for a little while she could pretend none of this was happening.

            “Hold on,” Cassandra said suddenly and Elora heard the engine rev.

            She barely had time to grip something before the rover bounced harshly. “What are you doing?” Elora demanded, swearing as her phone bounced out of her hands and onto the floor.

            “Harding said there’s been suspicious activity in this area and that’s our best chance at finding this mystery man.”

            “By going off road?” she demanded, trying to track where her phone had gone.

            “We’ll be there shortly, Herald.”

            She wanted to scream for them to stop calling her that. She was a Knight-Enchanter, not a Herald!

            When the ground evened out, Elora immediately bent over to search for her phone. Her seat belt prevented her from getting a good look and she suddenly regretted putting it on silent to hide her texting. Now she couldn’t even ask someone to message her to try to-Shit. She could see the screen lighting up near Varric’s feet. “Uhm, Varric, would you mind?” she asked slowly, sitting up. “My phone is…..”

            “Sure thing.”

            She watched him as he bent forward to scoop it up and held it out to her. She wasn’t sure if he looked at the screen or not as she took it from him. Flipping it over, she really hoped he hadn’t.

            _I’m here for you, Elora. Please. Remember that._

            Gritting her teeth, she kept quiet even though she wanted to ask him what that meant. How was he there for her when they hadn’t talked since she became the blasted Herald of Andraste and him the Commander of the Inquisition? How were they supposed to talk when they were both completely surrounded by people nearly every second of every day and-

            “We’re here,” Cassandra said, throwing the rover into park. “From the intel we’ve gathered, the person Dorian sent us after is most likely nearby. Provided he’s any kind of smart.”

            “Alright then,” she said, undoing her belt. “Let’s do this.”

            Doors opened and closed quickly but Elora didn’t move around the rover immediately. Leaning back against it, she took slow breaths. She could do this. She knew she could do this. It was just a standard run. Nothing new. Larger team but not the biggest she had run with. When they’d gone to thaigs it had been-

            “Hey.”

            Shit. Opening her eyes, she looked at Cullen as he came up to her. “Hi, sorry, I’m ready. Just wanted to-”

            “I know,” he interrupted gently. “This isn’t what you wanted. It isn’t what either of us wanted, honestly.”

            She stared at him for a moment. Oh. “Not like we can change it, Commander,” she said quietly.

            “Hey,” he said, moving closer to her. “Don’t do that.”

            Elora squeezed her eyes shut. “You started it,” she whispered harshly.

            He sighed, getting closer again. “I know. I know I did. I thought…professionalism would be best given the situation.”

            “I don’t like being called Herald,” she growled. “I’m not a Herald of anything, least of all Andraste. Why would anyone think something stupid like that?”

            “Because they need something to believe in,” Cullen murmured. “We all do.”

            “Me though? Elora Trevelyan, with holes in her memory, shoddy skills and hips a mile wide? No, no one should be believing in me.”

            “I do.”

            She didn’t have a word for what her heart did in her chest at those two words. Looking up at him, she knew he meant them. He didn’t lie to her and he meant what he had said. Exhaling sharply, she gripped his vest and pulled him down. She quickly mashed her lips against his, needing some small comfort before she went to face whatever was coming. “Okay fine,” she muttered. “I’ll go and-“ Gasping, Elora didn’t know what to do when she was hauled back and pressed against the side of the rover. It took a second for her brain to catch up when she realized Cullen was kissing her again, his mouth moving over hers almost desperately.

            Reaching up, she looped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to reach again. A soft purr left her as he pressed into her, even though all of their gear was distinctly in the way. She wasn’t expecting it when his hand slid down to grip her pant leg and he tugged it up, shifting closer to her and wedging his thigh between hers. She curled her leg around him, tucking her foot between his legs and humming happily as she shifted against his thigh. Oh, Maker, was this happening?

            “I miss you,” Cullen whispered against her mouth.

            “I know,” she moaned, tugging him back down to kiss her again. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted the sinful sweep of his tongue over her lips and the way he tugged on the lower one. She only wanted him to shift his leg between hers and make sparks that had nothing to do with magic leap through her veins.

            She moaned again as his hand cupped her ass, hauling her forward along his leg. Holy Maker, she wanted to feel that again when there wasn’t a stitch of clothing between the pair of them. She wanted to feel him when there wasn’t anything between them. She wanted-

            “Herald? Commander? Is everything alright?”

            Elora broke their kiss, breathing heavily and barely avoiding him when Cullen made to follow. “Fine,” she called, her voice catching slightly. “We’ll be right there!”

            “We need to hurry.”

            “Shit, I know. Cullen, we have to stop,” she whispered, tingles running through her as his hand kept sliding her along his leg. Andraste, she didn’t want him to stop!

            His eyes narrowed at her. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said lowly.

            “I’ve been busy!” she protested, her muscles clenching as he pressed up harder against her. “You’ve been busy!”

            “We could have made time,” he muttered. “There surely could have been time.”

            “Uh, Cullen,” Elora moaned softly. “We have to go!”

            He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing shallowly. “After this,” he said tightly, “we need to talk. We have to figure this out, Elora.”

            “Should there even be anything to figure out?” she whispered.

            “You don’t mean that,” Cullen said quickly. “You can’t me-”

            “Elora! Cullen!”

            “Coming!” she yelled back, squirming enough that Cullen let her go. Wasn’t that a laugh. She’d been well on her way to doing that but no, he had to jump her in the middle of a desert, in the middle of a mission. “Just…wait a sec.”

            Tugging on her fatigues as she started away from him, Elora glanced over her shoulder and that was a mistake. Cullen was watching her hotly, his colour elevated and breathing hard. But he jerked his chin at her, telling her to continue on when she started to stop. “I’m right behind you,” he said lowly.

            She bit her lip to keep from saying she was supposed to be covering him. That wasn’t the case anymore. They weren’t partners anymore. She wasn’t sure what they were, inside the Inquisition and out of it. Rubbing her hand over her face, she hurried through the sand to where Cassandra and Varric were waiting. “Sorry,” she muttered when she reached them.

            “Don’t sweat it. I kept the Seeker entertained.”

            “I spy is not a form of entertainment, Varric.”

            Elora managed a half smile at their banter but she was more aware of Cullen following behind her, silent and watching her since her skin was prickling. “Let’s get going and-”

            They all tensed when a howl went up from the other side of the dune.

            “Approach with caution,” Cassandra said lowly, her gun coming up. “Bandits aren’t the only thing we have to worry about out here.”

            “Did I mention that I’m thrilled you brought me out here, Trev?”

            “You might have,” she whispered, following Cassandra up to the top of the dune. Whatever had made that noise hadn’t been human and it was too close for comfort.

            Elora made a face when Cassandra dropped down to crawl the last distance to the top, everyone else doing the same. She was wedged between Seeker and former Templar and there wasn’t much room for her but-“What’s happening?” she whispered, staring with wide eyes down the side of the dune.

            “A bandit is about to become lunch,” Varric muttered.

            She kept staring. A lone figure was at the base of the dune, several quillback’s circling and snapping at him. There was one dead at his feet already and she wasn’t going to think about how he had killed it. She couldn’t get a good look and she didn’t want to.

            “He looks half mad,” Cullen muttered and she felt him shift. When she looked, he was passing a pair of binoculars to Cassandra. “He isn’t going to last. What should we do?”

            “It might be more of a mercy to put a bullet in his skull rather than leave him to the animals.”

            “You can’t be serious!” Elora hissed. “Why not kill the fucking quillbacks?”

            “The only ones out in this desert are bandits and lyrium runners, Herald.”

            “We’re out here and so is Dorian’s contact,” she said hotly. “How do you know that’s not him?!”

            “Do you want a man half out of his mind in the Inquisition?”

            No but Dorian had asked her to do this. He had refused to come back out to the Western Approach but he had wanted to do something for his saviour, for Freckles as he called him. She wasn’t going to go back and tell them that they had accidentally put a bullet in his skull! “Do not shoot him,” Elora growled when Cullen sighted down his gun.

            “Elora, he’s wearing the colours of a known lyrium smuggling ring. We need to-”

            They all stopped talking as one of the quillbacks rushed forward, maw wide open before it closed on one of his arms.

            “Well, shit,” Varric muttered.

            A shudder raced down Elora’s spine as an odd noise came from the scene below. If she hadn’t known better she would have thought that teeth were scraping against metal. A wild thought flew threw her mind and she snatched the binoculars out of Cassandra’s grip.

            “Elora-”

            “Please, no,” she whispered. “No, no, no.”

            “Herald?”

            “Holy shit,” Varric breathed.

            Elora’s lips parted on a silent gasp as she watched one hand clamp down on the upper half of the quillback’s jaw and yard it up. Sunlight flashed off of metal where sleeves were ripped as the arm that had been inside the animal’s mouth pushed down. She was glad she wasn’t the only one that gagged as the person down below ripped the quillback’s head in half with seemingly little effort. “Oh, no,” Elora whispered, dropping the binoculars.

            “Herald, wait!”

            “Elora, stop!”

            She didn’t listen to Cassandra or Cullen as she pushed to her feet and launched herself down the hill. A quick gesture had a barrier springing up around the figure at the base of the dune but not before she heard a gunshot ring out and saw him jerk. “Fuck!” she yelled.

            “Get back here!” Cullen bellowed at her.

            Ignoring him, she made a pair of quick gestures, watching as lightning slammed between a pair of quillbacks and flames leapt at a third. “Get away from him!” she shouted.

            They started to turn on her but more shots rang out and with yelps the animals retreated. But the figure remained.

            Even from several feet away, Elora could hear his ragged breathing. She didn’t know if it was from heatstroke, the bullet wound slowly seeping blood down his chest, or because it had been too long since he had had a transfusion. A mop of curls was hanging over his face, far too long for her to make anything out but her heart was pounding. She knew she was right but she didn’t want to be right. Maker, if she was right…. “Yoney?” Elora whispered.


	21. The Double Bionic

 

            Swearing harshly, Cullen took off after Elora. She ran faster than he’d expected, nearly at the bottom of the sand dune before he made it half way and shouting at the quillbacks. She’d ignored him and Cassandra to charge blindly and his heart was pounding as he watched her run straight toward a bad situation. What was she thinking?! Was this what she did while she was out on missions when he wasn’t there?

            “Elora!” he shouted again.

            He saw lightning and fire spring up around the quillbacks before shots came from behind him. He wanted to swear again. What were they doing shooting when Elora could easily get into their line of sight?! But the bullets did their job, scattering the animals and leaving only the man at the bottom of the sand dune.

            His steps slowed as Elora didn’t approach the man but he still pulled out his side arm as he came up to her.

            “Yoney?”

            Cullen froze at the name, his gaze jerking from her to the man. Yoney? As in her cousin? This was her cousin? “Elora,” Cullen said quietly, coming up beside her. “Drop the barrier.”

            “So one of you can shoot him again?!” she demanded harshly. “Put the gun down and maybe I’ll think about it!”

            Cullen shook his head. That was not happening. The man was clearly out of his mind and he wasn’t taking any risks with her life.

            Elora glared at him. “Cullen-“

            “Not happening, Elora,” he told her shortly. “Give me something else.”

            Her glare didn’t go anywhere. “I can talk to him but he’s in pain and is suffering so the gun isn’t going to help!”

            “Are you sure it’s even him?”

            “Yes,” she hissed. “I know my cousin, Cullen.”

            He flinched at the harsh tone of voice before pinning her with a look. “I have to ask,” he said shortly. “We’re in the middle of the desert and he’s clearly out of his mind. You are too valuable to risk in case you made a mistake.”

            Green eyes were flashing as she looked at him but he held her gaze evenly until her shoulders slumped. “Right, sorry,” she muttered. “It’s just….”

            “I know,” Cullen sighed. “He’s been missing for too long.”

            Elora’s eyes darted over his face before she looked back at Ionas. “Yoney,” she said again, taking a small step toward him. “Do you know who I am?”

            Cullen tensed as the man swung his head to look at her, black eyes almost completely unfocused. “Elora,” he said, not liking this one bit.

            Thick brows drew together and the man rasped, “Ella?”

            She seemed to light up beside Cullen. “Yes, Yoney! It’s Ella.”

            But he was shaking his head. “Can’t be,” he mumbled. “Ella wouldn’t be in the desert. She’s safe. Have to keep her safe. Can’t let her find out.”

            “Yoney, please,” Elora said. “It’s really me. I’m here and I’m here to get you out.”

            He was still shaking his head. “No, no, no,” he repeated. “Can’t be. She’s safe, away, not here, can’t be here.”

            Cullen thought he could actually feel Elora’s heart breaking at her cousin’s words. “Please,” she whispered, holding out her hands. “Yoney, we’re here to save you.”

            For someone who seemed as out of it as he was, Cullen was startled by how fast Ionas moved. Elora yelped as he seized her hands and hauled her forward, but Cullen had already lifted his gun. “Let her go,” he said sharply.

            Ionas ignored him but Cullen didn’t miss the way he half turned so his body was between Cullen and Elora. Was he trying to protect her? That was all well and good except for the fact that Cullen wasn’t so sure Ionas actually knew who Elora was. The fact that he had also just watched this man rip the face off of a quillback made him seriously uneasy. Not once had Elora ever mentioned that her cousin was a bionic and not just that, but a double. Both of his arms were metal if the tears in his sleeves were anything to go on and that meant he could easily do damage to Elora without even meaning to.

            “I’m not going to tell you again,” Cullen growled. “Let her go!”

            Ionas growled at him, baring his teeth savagely. He didn’t want to shoot the man, he really didn’t but if he kept on like that he wasn’t going to have much of a choice!

            “Cullen, shh,” Elora whispered, reaching up to gently touch Ionas’ face. “Yoney, look at me. Can you look at me, Yoney?”

            His grip on the gun tightened as those black eyes slowly moved from him to Elora. “Not real,” he insisted.

            “I am real,” she murmured.

            A tremor ran through him and he shuffled them a step back from Cullen. “No,” he said stubbornly. “Ella wouldn’t come here. Ella _can’t_ come here.”

            Cullen had to pull himself back sharply to keep from moving forward when Ionas’ legs collapsed and he took the pair of them to the ground. He felt something seize in his back and hissed softly, which only drew those black eyes back to him. He barely lowered the gun, tracking their progress and wishing Elora would drop the damn barrier so he could help her if this went sideways.

            “I am here,” Elora said firmly, making him look back at her. “I will always come for you, Yoney. We’re best friends remember? The Trev outcasts always stick together.”

            “Did you run away?” he rasped. “I’ll keep you safe.”

            “You always have and I’ll do the same for you. Ionas, we’re safe right now.”

            He muttered something, shaking his head and pulling her closer.

            “Ionas, listen to me,” she said firmly, holding his face when he tried to look at Cullen. “Do you trust me?”

            Cullen saw Ionas’ Maferath’s knot bob as he swallowed but he nodded slowly.

            “You’re safe with me,” she soothed. “I will keep you safe.”

            He didn’t think he had shifted but Ionas’ head snapped around to look at Cullen, teeth bared again. “Fucking Templar,” he hissed, his gaze darting over him. “I won’t let you hurt Ella again. I won’t!”

            “Cullen isn’t going to hurt me or you, Ionas,” Elora said, gently turning him again.

            “Templars are bad!”

            “Some of them are,” she said patiently and Cullen felt like she was talking to a child. “But Cullen isn’t a Templar anymore and he would never hurt me.”

            He relaxed slightly as he saw Ionas’ shoulders slump a little before they both tensed as the radio on his shoulder crackled to life.

            _“Cullen, what’s going on?!”_

            He quickly reached up and muttered, “Hold a damn minute.”

            Ionas was watching him warily. “Templar,” he muttered.

            “Ionas,” Elora said firmly. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

            A low grumble left the man and Cullen’s eyes narrowed at him. He hadn’t done anything threatening beyond pointing a gun at him yet Ionas seemed ready to tear his throat out with his teeth.

            “Do you remember when we were little and we snuck into the orchard? How we climbed up a tree and ate plums until we were sick?”

            Ionas frowned at her. “You fell out of the tree,” he mumbled. “Broke your arm.”

            “Yeah, I did,” she agreed. “You drew plums on my cast.”

            Cullen ground his teeth together, wanting nothing more than to pull Elora away from him but any sudden moves would completely disrupt what she was trying to do with Ionas. His palms were sweating inside his gloves, his hands shaking slightly. He nearly shook his head to try to clear his thoughts but he could feel the buzz under his skin, the telltale itch that came from lack of lyrium. _Not now_ , he pleaded silently. He needed to focus and the aches and pains that were steadily increasing the longer he refused to take the lyrium were not going to be beneficial to this situation.

            “Elora?” Ionas rasped suddenly, sounding far more lucid than before.

            “Yes,” she said, smiling up at him and still stroking her bare finger tips over his face. “Yes, it’s me, Yoney.”

            He licked his lips, frowning at her. “How are you…?”

            She shook her head. “That’s not important right now. We need to get you out of here. Cullen, do you have any water on you?”

            “I don’t,” he said slowly but Ionas’ gaze still snapped to him. Cullen saw his arms tighten around Elora. “But I can get Cassandra or Varric to bring some.”

            Elora frowned for a moment. “No, get them to bring the rover,” she said. “We need to get him back to camp. He’s going to need serious medical attention.”

            Cullen nodded and carefully reached over to the radio on his shoulder. “Pentaghast, you and Varric bring the rover.”

            _“Is the situation stable?”_

            Ionas was watching Cullen like a bloody hawk but he kept his voice even and his movements deliberate. “For the moment but try not to make any sudden moves. It would probably be best if you stayed with the rover until we join you.”

_“Copy that.”_

            He let his hand fall and slowly holstered the pistol as well. “Elora, are you going to treat the gunshot now or wait until we’re in the rover?”

            She pursed her lips. “I want to heal it,” she whispered. “Or staunch the bleeding at least but…Yoney?”

            He grunted.

            “I need to heal your shoulder,” she said, carefully reaching out.

            He caught her wrist before it fully settled on his shoulder. “No.”

            “Ionas, you’re bleeding.”

            He shook his head. “Templars find you if you use magic.”

            “They won’t touch her,” Cullen said flatly.

            Ionas glared at him but he didn’t let go of Elora.

            “Ionas Maxwell Trevelyan,” she growled. “You’re fucking bleeding and you can’t afford to lose more blood!”

            He made a noise at her. “Language.”

            “I fucking learned it from you.”

            “Bullshit.”

            She sighed harshly. “You’re not funny. Let me heal you. Cullen will easily keep us safe and so will Cassandra and Varric. No one is going to be getting me or you, Ionas.”

            His face twisted slightly like he didn’t believe her, but he slowly brought her hand back to his shoulder and flinched as she touched it. “Quick, Ella.”

             She clearly didn’t like that, but he felt magic stir through the air, humming in the lyrium left in his veins. “I’ll wait to heal it properly or let someone at camp do it,” she said quietly. “I’ve just iced the area so he’s not bleeding anymore. The bullet went straight through so that’s at least something.”

            Cullen nodded, feeling like he was in some kind of standoff with Ionas as he kept turning his gaze back to him. It almost felt like he had done something to antagonize the other man when he hadn’t done a damn thing. And how had he known he was a Templar? Former or otherwise, he wasn’t wearing anything that connected him to the Chantry like that so how had he known?

            He watched as Elora reached up to gently run her fingers through the curls hanging into Ionas’ face. Or she tried to at least, they were matted and knotted in places and he saw Ionas flinch slightly as she pulled on the snarls.

            “I’m sorry,” she murmured, shifting to just run her hands over his hair. “But don’t worry, we’ll be back at the camp and we’ll get you a transfusion and some food and water so you’ll be better in no time.”

            Ionas slumped forward, his head coming to rest on Elora’s shoulder. “I’m tired, Ella,” he whispered.

            Cullen crouched down so he was on eye level with the pair of them and waited for Elora to look at him. “What is he going to need?” he said quietly. “I haven’t…had many dealings with bionics.”

            “Food and water to start,” she said softly, still petting her cousin as he slumped more on her. “Healing his shoulder will be a priority as soon as we get back because he needs all the blood he can get right now.”

            “And the transfusion?”

            Her lips pursed. “That’s going to be harder,” she admitted. “I don’t know when the last time he had one was so I’m not sure how much he’s going to need to flush his system. Which we probably won’t be able to do here, we’ll only be able to stabilize him so we can move him back to Haven. Or actually we should probably take him to Redcliffe. The hospital there will be better equipped to deal with this situation.”

            “How much will he need to stabilize?” Cullen asked, glancing over as he saw the rover driving toward them.

            Ionas saw it too, trying to push himself up, but Eora shushed him gently and pulled him back to her. “I don’t know. The healer at camp should be able to tell us easily enough.”

            He had a feeling she wasn’t telling him something but he would let it go for now. They had enough to deal with at the moment and he could ask later because he wasn’t going to completely drop it. “How are we going to move him?” he asked, looking at the man slumped over Elora. Ionas had to be close to Cullen’s height and with the added weight of those arms he couldn’t be light.

            “Ionas, can you stand up enough that Cullen and I can help you into the rover?” she asked, rubbing the back of his head slightly.

            “Can do it,” he muttered.

            “You really can’t, Yoney,” she whispered, “and I can’t lift you on my own. Can Cullen help us?”

            He grumbled for a moment before finally nodding against her.

            “Be careful of his shoulder,” Elora murmured as Cullen moved a little closer.

            Nodding, he looped Ionas’ arm across his shoulders, gripping his wrist in one hand and reaching around to fist his hand in the material on the man’s hip. “You’re going to have to help me,” he said lowly.

            Dark eyes stared at him before he nodded again.

            It was a balancing act to be sure because Ionas didn’t seem to have any of it anymore. Elora popped to her feet quickly to support him on the other side but even still Cullen felt like he was dragging Ionas toward the rover. He was taking stumbling steps and tripping over the sand and his boots, muttering to himself with every step. Elora was gently shushing him and encouraging him onward but it was still slow going.

            “Get the hatch open,” Cullen growled when they were close enough.

            Elora hurried forward and the men swayed slightly without her there. But a few more steps and they were at the back of it. It took a bit of light shoving but eventually they got Ionas stretched out as best they could in the back of the rover.

            Cullen noticed that most of the gear they had brought was missing and wondered which one had moved it, Varric or Cassandra. Didn’t overly matter and he was grateful either way. He wouldn’t have been able to keep Ionas up if Elora would have had to do it. He watched her climb into the back, tugging off her gloves as she settled near Ionas before gently moving his head into her lap. “Cullen, can you find me some water?” she asked, slowly moving her fingers over Ionas’ face again.

            He watched her for a moment longer but when she didn’t move from her spot he closed the hatch and went around to the door behind the driver’s seat. He climbed in, noticing the gear piled on the back seat before he started rifling through one of the bags until he found a canteen. He held it out to her silently, barely reacting as Cassandra started off.

            “I take it that’s the contact?”

            Cullen flicked a look at Varric in the passenger’s seat. “Maybe,” he said quietly. “He’s not really in any shape to ask if he knows Pavus.”

            “And we’re taking him with us…why?”

            “He’s her cousin.”

            The rover swerved slightly and he met Cassandra’s gaze in the rear view mirror. “That’s Ionas?” she demanded.

            He nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. He could hear Elora quietly talking to Ionas and as much as he wanted to know what was going on, he tried to give them what privacy he could. But he knew this was going to complicate matters between him and Elora. There was no way they were going to be able to talk any time soon now that her cousin was here. Which was a horrible thing to be thinking about since she finally had her cousin back but the thoughts wouldn’t leave him. He’d hoped that once they’d found and settled the contact he could talk with her in private to figure out what was between them, if they both wanted it and, more importantly, wanted it to continue.

            Because what she had said before they had found Ionas worried him. He knew it wasn’t the best time to be thinking about a relationship or anything like it, but to actually come out and say that maybe they shouldn’t have anything together?

            Rubbing his neck, Cullen leaned back against the door, keeping Elora and Ionas in his direct sight. Not that it mattered since she was completely focused on her cousin but if she needed help he didn’t want her to wait for it. Plus…it gave him the chance to simply look at her. He hadn’t had the opportunity to do that in what felt like forever, even if Redcliffe hadn’t been that long ago. It hadn’t been enough.

            Elora glanced up at him after a few moments and seemed startled to find him already looking at her. “Uhm, can you radio the camp?” she asked softly. “Get them ready for our arrival?”

            Cullen pulled his radio off his shoulder, trying to remember what she had said earlier. “Should they set up a tent for him or put him in the medical one?”

            “His own. Ionas doesn’t…like a lot of people knowing about his arms. Get the healer to set it up for a transfusion.”

            He nodded. “Base camp, this is Commander Rutherford.”

            _“Go ahead, Commander.”_

            Relaying what Elora wanted, he saw her smile in thanks at him as the camp confirmed the orders. But it faltered after a moment and she looked down at Ionas again, making Cullen want to sigh. He settled back in, radio still in hand while he listened to the cousins murmur quietly to each other.

            The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful, the only noise coming from Elora as she spoke to Ionas. Varric was oddly silent and he didn’t expect Cassandra to fill the relative silence. But he didn’t like it because his thoughts kept spinning in circles and he was going to blurt something out if this kept up.

            But he was soon rolling the window down once they were at camp, waving off most of the soldiers that came up to assist. “We’re fine,” he told them. “Where was the tent set up?”

            “Next to the medical one, ser. Are you sure you don’t need help?”

            Cullen sighed. “Seeker Pentaghast can help me move him,” he said, glancing at the front seat to see Cassandra nodding. “Go back to your posts and maintain a strict watch. I don’t want us caught unaware.”

            “Yes, Ser!”

            “Not exactly what we had planned,” Cassandra muttered as she drove toward the new tent.

            “When does anything go as we had planned?” he asked, wondering how they were going to get Ionas out of the back. “At least we found him with relative ease, if he is the contact that is. Elora?”

            “Yoney, my friends are going to help you get into the tent so we can do a transfusion, okay?” she murmured. “I won’t leave and we’ll get you healed up right quick and then we’ll see about keeping you out of trouble.”

            “Trouble?” Ionas said suddenly. “Trouble’s here?”

            “No,” Elora soothed, stroking his face. “We’re going to keep you out of trouble now. I’m going to keep you safe, Ionas.”

            Cullen wasn’t sure but it almost seemed like her cousin was disappointed with what she said but he dropped it as the rover stopped and climbed out.

            “I’ll see what I can get for food and water brought to the tent,” Varric said quietly as Cassandra and Cullen went to the hatch.

            Nodding, Cullen opened it. Ionas was sitting up, Elora propping him up as best she could and Cullen held out a hand to help him move to the edge of the rover. He wasn’t surprised at the hesitation but they got him out easily enough before arms were looped over his and Cassandra’s shoulders. “You’re a lot heavier than you look,” Cullen muttered as they started toward the tent.

            Ionas mumbled something under his breath that Cullen figured he was better off not knowing. He could hear Elora following them before she hurried ahead to lift the tent flap for them. A blast of cool air hit them as they went inside and quickly settled Ionas on the cot.

            Rolling his shoulder, Cullen watched as Elora introduced the healer to Ionas, reassuring him that she wasn’t going to go anywhere.

            “Do you want me to stay?” Cassandra asked quietly.

            “No, we should be fine. Contact Haven and see what you can do about getting us transport back to Ferelden. Elora thinks we should go to Redcliffe so if you can get Josephine to figure that out, we’d appreciate it.”

            Cassandra clapped his shoulder before she left.

            Shrugging out of his vest, Cullen unzipped his fatigues as he listened to what the pair of women were saying. Elora had convinced Ionas to let the healer fix his shoulder and was holding his hand while she stroked his hair. “Elora, what are you going to need for the transfusion?”

            The healer looked up quickly. “We don’t have enough blood for a proper flush for his arms,” she said shortly. “And this isn’t the proper procedure for it!”

            “I know,” Elora assured her. “I know that but we don’t have time to do the proper procedure. We’re only going to stabilize him. An intravenous hook up between a person or two will help him do that.”

            The healer pursed her lips but Cullen had a bad feeling settling in his stomach about this. “Make it three,” she said. “It’ll mean we can take a little bit less from each person but still be sure that it’s enough for him. Blood type?”

            “AB positive,” Elora said quietly.

            “Huh, lucky him.”

            “Not really,” she sighed. “He had bone marrow transplants after it was done because this is a major change to the body and they made sure it was that type so he wouldn’t have to worry about donors.”

            “And who exactly is donating,” Cullen said lowly.

            Elora barely flicked him a look. “Do you have the medical records of those stationed here?”

            “I do. There’s a few that are even registered donors so it shouldn’t be that hard.”

            “Okay. Can you start getting set up? He has a shunt in his chest so we don’t have to worry about finding a vein on him.”

            The healer nodded, moving over to the table set up and it gave Cullen the chance to move closer to the two of them. “Elora,” he said quietly, “you didn’t answer my question.”

            “It’ll be better if we start with someone he knows,” she whispered. “If we can do that so he’s at least part ways stabilized before anyone else comes in that will really help keep him from freaking out.”

            “No,” Cullen said sharply when she started pushing up her sleeve.

            Flashing eyes looked at him again. “Excuse me?” she demanded.

            “You’re not doing it.”

            “I said it needs to be someone he knows!”

            “Then I’ll do it,” he growled. “I’m O negative so universal donor. You’re not doing it.”

            Her brows drew together and she leapt onto her feet. “He’s my cousin and-”

            “You’re the Herald,” Cullen cut in. “You need to be sharp no matter what happens. If something comes up, you and your team are going to be expected to handle it. You’re not going to be able to do that if you’re missing a pint of blood. We also don’t know if Ionas is the contact. If he’s stabilized and isn’t the person we’re looking for, you have to go find them.”

            She made a dismissive gesture. “You could handle it.”

            “Elora, think for a moment. I know he’s your cousin and this is important but you can’t do this.” Cullen ignored Ionas’ growl as his hands settled on Elora’s shoulders and he gave her a small shake. “You can’t,” he repeated when she opened her mouth. “Don’t make me order you to stand down.”

            She inhaled sharply, staring hard at him. “Cullen.”

            It was a moment of insanity but he wanted to kiss her, to erase that firm line her mouth had settled into but he knew it would probably make matters worse. “Let me,” he said, gentling his voice. “Let me do this for the both of you.”

            Her eyes darted over his face before her own scrunched up. “I’d rather do it,” she whispered harshly.

            “I know,” he said, pulling her into him and hugging her tightly. “I know you do, but let me.”

            Cullen was silently pleased when her arms looped around his waist, hugging him back. He felt her rub her face against his chest and take a shaking breath. “Thank you,” she whispered.

            Maker’s breath, he wanted to kiss her again. That moment against the rover hadn’t been planned, he’d just wanted to talk to her and instead he had gotten to taste her again but he wanted more. When she leaned back from him, the anger gone from her face, he slowly slid one hand up her back to brace her as he leaned over her.

            Ionas growled lowly from beside them and they both looked over at him. “We don’t kiss Templars,” he said flatly.

            Elora sighed, thumping her head against Cullen’s chest for a moment before wriggling out of his arms. “Cullen isn’t a Templar anymore, Ionas, and you don’t get a say in who I do and don’t kiss,” she told him, sitting on the edge of the cot.

            She still hadn’t kissed him though.  Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Cullen took off his jacket as the healer came back. Ionas couldn’t really see him but he was still muttering as Elora flicked looks between the two of them. He flinched slightly as the needle was inserted and he saw her brows draw together so he gave her a smile. It wasn’t like it actually hurt, it just wasn’t pleasant to be jabbed with anything. Once the tubing was hooked into the shunt on Ionas’ chest, Elora scooted forward a little more. He was surprised when one of her hands gently rested on Ionas’ shoulder and the other reached out to catch his hand.

            Slumping in his seat a little to get more comfortable, he stretched his legs out, catching one of hers between his. He threaded their fingers together after a moment, lazily rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. Well…this was at least a little bit encouraging. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t care about him. But as her gaze moved back to Ionas he knew he wouldn’t be getting an answer to that question anytime soon.

            It was a good thing he didn’t plan on going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add this but magisteramell/Luci wants all of you to know that she really does love her baby Ionas, no matter what we put him through and that’ she’s been an emotional wreck waiting for him to show up in the story. But he’s here now and will be safe!
> 
> Note 2: I was kindly asked why Ionas needs the transfusion in the first place and I realised I was a complete moron and didn't mention it in story so here will have to do!
> 
> Ionas' bionics are designed to function with his body as a type of synthetic limb and use a type of synthetic blood that mixes with his own. If it's only a little bit or he does regular small transfusions, he's fine. But if too much of the synthetic blood mixes with his own it'll become toxic and his body may very well reject the prosthesis. If he gets to that point (which is where he's almost at in the chapter), he requires a full flush of his system which is essentially going to be replacing the toxic blood with new blood through a transfusion. Since they're in the middle of the desert, all they can do right now is try to get enough new blood into him so that he won't completely reject the bionics and they can evacuate him to a proper hospital to do the full procedure.


	22. Allies

 

            Slamming the door of the car, Elora exhaled as evenly as she could and kept her phone pressed to her ear. She wanted to hang up, wanted to tell the three people on the other end that she was getting a headache listening to them bicker with one another and at her. The decision had been made and yet they were still pestering her after she’d left Haven.

            _“I don’t understand why we can’t at least make the effort to try to contact them!”_

_“Commander, the Herald has already given you her reasons for why approaching the mages would be a much better route.”_

_“It’s the easy way out. Elo-Herald, please, can’t you at least try?”_

She pinched the bridge of her nose, leaning back against the car. The slip up with her name instead of title didn’t make this any easier because it reminded her that she didn’t know where she stood with the Commander. “I’m already in Redcliffe and the meeting has been set up with Fiona,” she said quietly. “I know you found where the Templars went after that incident in Val Royeaux but we don’t have the time to go there and _maybe_ get their help. The Breach needs to be closed and we already have the mages.”

            She didn’t need to see him to know he wasn’t happy about it. He’d expressed his displeasure over the whole thing almost as soon as it had been suggested. She’d done her best to convince him why this was the best way but he refused to give up on the belief that the Templars would help them if she just talked to them. But that also involved currying favour from the Orlesian nobles and she didn’t have time to do that.

            There was no getting around this. “Cullen, pick up the phone.”

            She could hear sounds coming from the other end as he no doubt moved across Josephine’s office to pick up the receiver. _“Yes, Herald?”_

            “Don’t do that,” she muttered. “I know why you want me to go talk to the Templars. Cullen, I know, but right now the Breach is causing too much damage to the world to pin our futures on the possibility that they might help us.”

            _“They would help. I refuse to believe that everyone in the order agrees with what the Lord Seeker said. I don’t, Barris doesn’t. There are others.”_

            Maker, they were running around in circles. “Cullen,” Elora said softly, “I’m getting the mages.”

            He was quiet for a long moment. _“As you will, Herald. Do you need to speak to the others?”_

“No.” Elora nearly threw her phone as the line went dead without anything more. She knew he didn’t like the thought of having so many mages in Haven, especially without the necessary precautions but…. “Fuck this,” she growled.

            “That good?”

            She glanced at Dorian, her mouth twisting. “I can’t get a moment’s peace,” she complained as they both started forward. “Nothing is ever good enough, they want me to do more. Gather these troops, help these people, close every fucking rift between here and the wastes of Orlais. Oh wait, no, we can’t do those ones because we’re not supposed to go into Orlais right now. How silly of me to forget.”

            “Take a breath, Elora. As long as you know you’re doing your best, don’t worry about them so much.”

            That was easy to say. He didn’t see them on a daily basis, being hauled into tents and offices to go over reports and supply lines and wanting her thoughts on everything under the blasted sun. She didn’t know anything about troop movements or if she was actually blessed by Andraste herself. Nine times out of ten she woke up with a headache from dehydration or lack of sleep and on the one day she didn’t some part of her was aching from all the walking around she had to do. She barely got any time to rest before she was being sent somewhere else.

            “That’s not why we’re here though,” he reminded her. “The meeting with Fiona isn’t until this afternoon and you have something else you should be thinking about.”

            Elora smiled faintly at him. “Right. Thanks for coming with me.”

            “You’re welcome but I’m not just here for you.”

            She knew that but she still appreciated it. Cassandra had elected to stay at Redcliffe castle and Teagan had been kind enough to loan her and Dorian a carDorian’s driving, however, was a lot more aggressive than she was used to but he had gotten them there in one piece. She was partially thankful she had been on the phone most of the time so she hadn’t focused on his lane jumping or the muttering under his breath about Ferelden drivers. But it had left her dizzy and feeling like she was going to throw up.

            A small sigh left her as they stepped into the hospital and the heat above the doors hit her. She had tried to dress warm but once again fallen short. She wasn’t so sure she was ever going to get the hang of the weather here. But she kept moving, ignoring the front desk because she knew where they were going.

            “Have you talked to him?” Dorian asked mildly as they stood in the elevator.

            “A couple times. He was still pretty groggy the last time we spoke but the doctors assured me that the procedure was going just fine. He just really didn’t take care of himself out there.”

            Dorian’s expression tightened slightly. “The fool should have just come with me,” he muttered. “It would have saved everyone a lot of grief.”

            “Last time I checked, Yoney rarely does what everyone expects him to.” But a part of her wished the same thing. He could have gotten out of the desert sooner, been safe sooner, and she could have found him sooner. “Did he ever tell you why he was out there?”

            “He wouldn’t even tell me his name, Elora.”

            “Right, right. I forgot. Sorry.”

            They fell silent as people came and went from the elevator before it was their floor. She kept her pace steady when all she wanted to do was run down the hallway. Because of everything with the Inquisition she hadn’t seen her cousin since they had brought him to the hospital last week. She had felt horrible even if the doctors and nurses said that he was mostly unconscious and wouldn’t have even known if she was there. She had wanted to be there for him as much as she could and she hadn’t been able to.

            Her hand was on the door when she realised that Dorian was hanging back. “Something wrong?” she asked curiously.

            He shook his head, leaning against the wall. “I’ll let you two have your joyous reunion before I join in.”

            Elora watched him for a moment before shrugging. “Whatever you want.” She knocked against the door. “Yoney?”

            “Come in.”

            She nearly shoved the door open at his voice. Not scratchy and harsh like it had been in the desert, but smooth and even with that thick Starkhaven brogue like she remembered. But she kept herself calm as she opened the door, smiling even though her eyes felt like they were being stung with tears. She barely made it through the door before a screech left her as she was being hauled into a hug that drove the air from her lungs.

            Ionas pressed his cheek against her hair, breathing deeply as he held her but she heard a slight waver in it. “I thought I’d dreamt you,” he murmured.

            Her arms wound around his middle as the tears fell down her cheeks. “You didn’t.”

            He took another breath before he straightened. Without letting her go.

            “Yoney!” she giggled, flailing her feet as they left the ground. “Put me down!”

            “I’m still positive we lost part of you somewhere,” he murmured. “How are you so tiny, Ella? No one else in the family is.”

            She kicked his shin and enjoyed his yelp. “You’re all giants as far as I’m concerned.”

            “Yeah well we must be to anyone as short as you. You’re what…five feet? Maybe?”

            “Fuck you, Ionas.”

            He chuckled lightly and gave her a tight squeeze before he set her down. “It’s good to see you too, Ella.”

            Elora couldn’t help her smile as he let her go to sit on the edge of his bed. He looked better, far more tan than she had ever seen him, but very different. The doctors had warned her they’d shaved his head rather than trying to deal with the matted mess his hair had been but it was still so odd to see him without his usual mop of curls. It also brought the scar through his right eyebrow into stark relief. “You too, but Yoney…what happened to you?” she asked softly. “Why were you in the Western Approach?”

            His mouth flattened and he looked away from her for a moment. “Things weren’t working out with Vael’s boys,” he said quietly. “Decided it was time for something new but you know how it is when people find out you’re not whole, makes it hard to find work and you wind up where you wind up.”

            Not whole. She hated that that was the way the world seemed to view bionics. “Why didn’t you call me?” she whispered and flinching when her voice broke. “I would have helped you out.”

            “I know, Ella, but you helped me enough as it was. Wouldn’t be fair to be living on the stipend you were getting from the Chantry.”

            “You could have at least called. Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

            He flushed under the tan and the freckles. “Ah, no, I lost my phone somewhere on the Storm Coast months ago. Never really had the time to replace it.”

            Elora stared hard at him, a part of her enjoying the fact that he was squirming. “Did you think that I’d just magically forget about my best friend and wouldn’t realise that you weren’t calling me back?”

            “Well…no.”

            She threw up her hands but she wasn’t angry. Much. “At least you’re safe now and you’re coming back with me to the Inquisition right?”

            “Like I have much of a choice,” he muttered. “And, excuse me, how in the bloody Void did you wind up with them?”

            “Long story,” she sighed.

            “Fuck no it’s not. What about that Templar you were about to kiss?” he demanded.

            It was her turn to blush. “You remember that?” she squeaked.

            “Yes and still waiting for the answer.”

            “I’m twenty-eight! You don’t get a say in who I do or don’t kiss!”

            “Wrong. I’m family so I most certainly do, but you’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Ella. Because the last I saw of you, you were content to stay home with your books and your tea but now you’re at the head of an organization that’s trying to close the hole in the sky?”

            Elora twisted her fingers together, looking down at the tight, fingerless glove she was wearing on her left hand. “It’s…a really long story,” she said softly. “Basically wrong place wrong time too many times and now I’m stuck where I am.”

            Ionas was quiet for a tense moment before he caught her hands and squeezed them gently. “Well, we’ll have time together now, with the Inquisition, so you can catch me up on everything. Like how in the world you’re in a relationship with a Templar.”

            “Ugh!” she scoffed, jerking her hands away. “We’re not! I mean, me and Cullen are…Shit, I don’t know what we are. I mean, we’re not partners anymore since he’s the Commander and I’m the stupid Herald and-”

            “Partners,” Ionas interrupted lowly. “As in you rejoined the Templars?”

            She bit down on her lip, wondering what to say to that when the door opened behind her. She saw the switch flip in Ionas, saw the moment that he wanted to put himself between her and whoever was coming through the door but it didn’t last. In fact she watched it slide right off his face to be replaced with confusion and shock.

            “Hey, Trouble,” he finally said quietly.

            “Freckles. You’re looking better.”

            “So are you. What are you doing here?”

            Elora glanced over her shoulder at Dorian as he stayed near the door before looking back at Ionas. “Dorian is the one who asked us to find you,” Elora explained. “If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be out there.” She wasn’t going to add the part where he most likely would have been dead. She didn’t want to think about that.

            “Huh,” Ionas said softly. “You kept your word.”

            “I try not to lie in situations like that. I said I would get you help and I did.”

            Elora suddenly felt like she was standing in the middle of something completely different than whatever they were saying and it made her feel awkward. Looking around the room, she frowned at what she saw. “Ionas, why are there jellybeans everywhere?”

            He shrugged. “Doctor said I kept mumbling about them when I was unconscious so I guess the nurses brought them in thinking I’d want them?”

            “Except you hate jellybe-” Elora nearly choked as she realised what he would have been actually talking about. “Oh. Oh, fuck!”

            Ionas’ expression completely dropped. “Elora, where’s my cat?”

            “In Kirkwall,” she said quickly, patting her pockets for her phone.

            “You’re not supposed to use that in here,” Dorian reminded her as she took it out.

            “Shit!”

            “Ella, where’s Jellybean?” Ionas demanded.

            “She’s in Kirkwall!” she repeated.

            “With who?!”

            She grimaced and took a long step away from him.

            “No,” he growled, pushing off the bed. “You did _not_ give her to Mrs. Gallagher!”

            “She was the only one that would take her on short notice!”

            “She’s been trying to steal Jellybean since I moved in!” he shouted, reaching for her and growling again when Elora dodged him. “And you just gave that woman my cat?!”

            “You were gone!” she yelled. “I had to go on a mission! I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare and I wasn’t going to just leave her on her own!”

            “But why is she still there?”

            “Clearly you don’t know what happened in Kirkwall,” Dorian said dryly as Elora hid behind him.

            “What happened in Kirkwall?”

            “We really don’t have time to go over everything right now,” Elora said, peeking around Dorian.

            “What do we have time for?” Ionas asked.

            “Well, I can call Mrs. Gallagher to get Jellybean back and if she won’t give her back-”

            “You’re going to use your nice new connections with the Inquisition to get her back.”

            Elora pursed her lips. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” And have the War Council yell at her some more. Why not? “We also have time for lunch before I have to talk to Fiona about the mages.”

            Ionas nodded slowly. “Alright. We can chat a bit and you can catch me up because clearly the world has gone to shit while I was gone.”

            “Well whose idea was it to go all hermit-savage in the desert?”

            “Who decided that running away from his camp in the middle of the day without a proper set of supplies was a good idea?”

            “We weren’t talking about me, Freckles.”

            “What a change.”

            Dorian snorted lightly. “Your cousin is insufferable.”

            She wasn’t sure that’s what she would call it. “Lunch?” she suggested.

            “I’ll meet you at the car,” Dorian said, “since you still need to check him out of the hospital.”

            “Right, okay.”

            “Are you okay, Ella?” Ionas asked before the door was even closed. “Because it sounds like you’re doing a lot of things you wouldn’t have before.”

            She looked down at her hand again, picking at the glove. “Yeah,” she agreed. “A lot has changed.”

            “That doesn’t tell me if you’re okay or not, Ella. And don’t give me this shit that you think I want to hear or whatever you have to say because you think it’s what you have to say. Tell me the truth.”

            “I’m scared,” she whispered without second thought. “A lot has happened and I barely have time to come to terms with anything before I’m being thrown at something else.”

            He studied her, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. “You’ve got to stand up for yourself, Ella. Yeah, fine, people want you do things. Tell them no if you can’t.”

            “They yell at me when I do,” she muttered. “Or get mad and then he hangs up on me.”

            “Who? That Templar?”

            Her nose wrinkled. “His name is Cullen and he’s not a Templar anymore.”

            “Ella, tell me.”

            He didn’t say more but then again he didn’t have to. She knew what he wanted. “We were partners in the Order,” she muttered. “It lasted a couple months before we got split up, he went back to Kirkwall and I stayed in Ferelden after the mission. Shit kept going sideways and then we found each other and fuck, I don’t know, Yoney. I mean, I like him, sure, but we don’t really have time to talk and he’s the Commander now and I’m just Elora even if they’re calling me the Herald.”

            “Just Elora is more than enough if he’s a good person.”

            She pushed her hands into her eyes and sighed harshly. “I don’t need this right now,” she whispered. “On top of everything, I don’t need this.”

            “Uh huh,” Ionas said slowly, tugging her hands down. “But do you want it? That’s the more important question right now, isn’t it?”

            She stared at their hands, only one of them not covered in a glove. “I do but…there’s never any time to talk.”

            “Make time.”

            Everything in her life was so much easier said than done. She had tried since they had gotten back from the Western Approach but they were both busy and lately it seemed that whenever they did talk, they were butting heads over things in the Inquisition. This wasn’t what she had wanted at any point. Sure they had argued before but this…this felt worse. Like they were on completely opposite sides of an imaginary problem; except the mages were anything but an imaginary problem.

            “Well, hey, if he does anything he shouldn’t, you let me know. I’ll kick his ass for you.”

            She laughed weakly. “Yoney, he saw you rip the face off of a quillback,” she said dryly. “I don’t think he’d fight you.”

            “Never said I’d give him the choice, Ella. Either he figures out how to separate work from pleasure or him and I are going to be having words.”

            Elora gave him a faint smile. “It’s okay, Yoney. I…we will figure it out on our own.”

            “Mm, well let’s go get something to eat. The food here sucks.”

            She nodded but frowned when he scooped up one of the bags of jelly beans. “What are you….” She stopped when he plunked them into her hands. “Yoney….”

            “What? I know you like them.”

            Elora rolled her eyes but she followed him out of the room. Checking him out went smoothly enough thanks to Josephine having the presence of mind to get everything sorted before she got there. And then they were out, with express orders for Ionas Trevelyan to take better care of himself, courtesy of every nurse on the floor.

            Ionas was still muttering about it as they got outside but he stopped when he saw the car she pointed at. “Nice car, Ella.”

            “It’s not mine. Teagan let us borrow it to come get me.”

            “Okay, when in the Void did you become on first name basis with the Arl of Redcliffe?”

            “When I saved Redcliffe? I…also kinda met the king of Ferelden and might even possibly be friends with him now? Maybe?”

            “The king of…?! Ella!”

            She wanted to smack herself but there was no stopping him or his questions now. They lasted all through the drive to the restaurant, through lunch, and then to the castle. Plus one unanswered phone call to Kirkwall and he still wasn’t satisfied as they were walking up the main steps.

            “Wait so you did what? You went into the future, the Fade, and the demon spawning pit of the Fallow Mire?” he demanded.

            “Yes to all of them,” Elora sighed, feeling like she was ten years older hearing him recite it back to her.

            “Damn it, Ella, I wasn’t gone for _that_ long!”

            “Well, that will teach you to hide in the desert, won’t it?”

            “And I thought _you_ were trouble. Maker’s tits, Ella, I’m not taking my eyes off of you again!”

            Elora crossed her own eyes as the doors were opened for them. She didn’t need this right now or ever really. “I don’t need a babysitter,” she muttered.

            “I beg to differ.”

            “I’m older than you!”

            “Six months, doesn’t count.”

            It did when he wanted to be the baby of the family. She pointedly ignored him as she tried not to stomp through the halls to where she was supposed to be meeting with the others. She could still hear Ionas talking to Dorian behind her and wondered if they thought they were joining her in the meeting. So far as she knew, Cassandra was the only one that was supposed to be going in with her.

            Sure enough, the Seeker was waiting for her outside of the office and her brows drew together as she saw the pair behind her. “Are they joining us?” she asked mildly.

            Shit, she was really hoping Cassandra would have just said no. “If they keep their mouths shut and behave they can come in.”

            “Goody for us.”

            “Not a good start, Trouble.”

            Cassandra looked at her and Elora grimaced. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” she muttered, knocking shortly on the door before she opened it.

            “You can’t just let them do what they want! I know King Alistair offered you shelter here but that only goes so far!”

            Elora’s stomach hit her shoes at the terse tone to Teagan’s voice. “What’s going on here?” she asked, crossing the room.

            Both Fiona and Teagan looked at her and she felt dread sweep over her at their expressions. “What’s going on?” Teagan repeated. “The mages seem to think that they still have free run of the city. There’s been an increase in fighting in the streets, two deaths that are suspected to be magically inclined, and petty crimes have gone up as well! No matter what the king decreed, my people want the mages gone!”

            Elora clenched her teeth and looked at Fiona. “It’s only been a couple of weeks,” she said lowly.

            “What more did you expect? They are fresh out of a war and without purpose. They don’t know what to do without the schools.”

            “And whose fault is that?” Elora snapped. “Who pushed to dissolve the Academies? Who destroyed our one source of schooling saying they were little better than the Circles of old? Who threw us to the Maker damned wolves with her fucking vote and maybe should have thought ahead a little bit more?”

            She felt Cassandra’s hand land on her shoulder but not until after they all felt the sizzle of electricity run through the room. “Herald,” she said calmly, “this isn’t personal right now.”

            Elora took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She counted to ten twice before opening them. “Arl Teagan, I’m sorry the mages have caused you trouble, especially after everything that has already happened in Redcliffe. I came here looking for the mages help with closing the Breach, but it would seem that I need to remove them from Redcliffe completely.”

            “Elora-“

            She lifted her hand, silencing Fiona, and took a deep breath. “I’m not going to conscript them,” she said slowly, “because I don’t believe in forcing anyone to do something they don’t want to. They will be the Inquisition’s allies if they so choose, but if they do not, if they continue this childish and selfish behaviour, I cannot offer them protection.”

            “You’re far kinder than I would expect,” Teagan said quietly, “but I’m sure that many of them will be glad to have a purpose again and will find it with your Inquisition.”

            Elora had to stop herself from saying that it wasn’t her Inquisition. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for the mages, Arl Teagan, and I will see to it that the mages are transferred to Haven as soon as possible.”

            “Thank you, Lady Trevelyan.”

            She flicked a glance to Fiona. “We need to talk,” she said quietly. “If you’ll excuse us, Arl.”

            Elora left the room as soon as he nodded, taking a few steps away from the door and trying not to pull her hair out. Inhaling slowly again, she turned to look at her. “You and I are never going to see eye to eye on this I think,” she said quietly, “but for the benefit of the mages, we’re going to have to get along. I need you to go to them and tell them what’s been decided here. Stress the fact that they will not have any support if they choose to remain in Redcliffe.”

            “King Alistair’s protection-”

            “If you don’t think that Teagan is currently on the phone with Alistair, you’re wrong. He’s the king’s uncle and Alistair made a generous offer to let the mages stay here despite what happened. Not all of them have spurned that, I know, but did everybody forget what Redcliffe saw ten years ago because of a mage? Because the people here surely haven’t.”

            Fiona’s mouth flattened. “I will tell them,” she said quietly.

            “I could have conscripted you, Fiona,” Elora warned. “But I’m going on good faith that most of the mages are still looking for something to do with their lives. I better not regret that decision.”

            Fiona bowed her head and walked away from them.

            Elora watched her leave, having the stupid urge to punch a wall. “Fuck.”

            “Wishing you had gotten the Templars now?” Dorian muttered.

            “No, it wouldn’t have been easier,” she sighed. “But…fuck, why isn’t anything easy? Why can’t one thing just be easy?”

            “You handled the situation well, Elora,” Cassandra said, touching her shoulder again. “I’m not sure how the council will feel about it, but you got the mages and that’s what we needed.”

            Elora sighed, wanting nothing more than to run into the hills and never come back. “There’s still that Warden Leliana wanted us to look for in the Hinterlands.”

            “Can I come?”

            Elora looked at Ionas, thinking he was joking but he was serious. “Oh, of course. You’ll need a bow though.”

            “It’s Ferelden, Ella,” he said dryly. “I can find a bow without too many issues.”

            “To fit your arms, smart ass?”

            He waved his hand. “I’ll find one. Don’t leave without me.”

            Elora sighed as he left with Dorian following him. “Tell me I didn’t just make a mistake,” she muttered.

            “With the mages or letting him come with us?”

            “I was thinking the mages but yeah Yoney too.”

            “Cullen won’t approve,” Cassandra said after a moment.

            “I know,” she groaned.

            “But you don’t need his approval, Elora. You made a choice when they continued to argue among themselves. He’ll get over it.”

            “I hope so,” Elora mumbled, wondering what kind of mess she was going to be walking into back at Haven.


	23. Or Foes

 

            Sorting papers, Cullen glanced at the table and then back at the reports. His brow furrowed as he pushed a piece in response to the report and took another off of the map. There were too many reports coming out of the Hinterlands and the Storm Coast and it was almost impossible to keep up with them. But he was determined to make a dent in them while he had the chance.

            They had a tiny moment to breathe, or so the rest of the Inquisition thought, with the Breach closed and he wanted to use this quiet time properly. But he kept getting distracted by the sounds coming from outside the Chantry.

            The rest of the Inquisition was using the time to celebrate what the Herald had accomplished, loudly.

            He set the reports down for a moment and pressed his fingers to his temples. Massaging slowly, he told himself the headache would go away. It always went away. As did the aches and pains that came with lyrium withdrawal but in this moment he felt like someone had his head in a vice and was slowly squeezing it. The tremors in his hands were getting harder to hide, especially when he was signing reports or pointing at locations on the map in the room. Leliana had noticed; he knew she had and most likely put all the pieces together.

            It was strange, seeing her again after that brief encounter ten years ago in Kinloch, but he knew times had changed them both. And he didn’t really know her, only barely remembered her from a decade ago, even if he had recognized her name as an associate and friend of the Queen of Ferelden. He was also thankful that while she seemed to recognize him, she hadn’t brought up why she had recognized him and hadn’t mentioned the issues he was having.

            But as of yet, Elora and Josephine hadn’t noticed. He was sure it was only a matter of time before they both figured out something wasn’t well and he would rather be honest about it, but there wasn’t time to discuss it.

            There wasn’t time to discuss a great many things and he was starting to wish he had pressed certain issues. Especially when Elora had come back with the mages and her cousin in tow, a guarded look on her face and clearly ready for the argument that had happened. It had been settled quickly enough but he had gotten the feeling that he had stepped in it. She hadn’t said much beyond wanting a bit of time to rest before they attempted to close the Breach and to give the mages a chance to settle in. He had gotten a faint smile out of her with his wicked comment but it hadn’t been enough.

            She was tired, he could see it plain as day even with the little bit of rest she had gotten. He had attempted to talk with her before she had gone up the mountain but her cousin hadn’t given him the chance. Ionas seemed determined to never leave Elora’s side and that made it hard to have a personal conversation with her when the man was standing one step back with a dark look on his face.

            So Cullen had let her go up the mountain with barely speaking to her and he hadn’t felt right about it. He’d tried to distract himself but he kept finding himself on the steps of the Chantry, staring at the Breach. He’d actually felt his stomach lurch when he had seen it flare, his mind screaming that he should have been there with her, before it had rippled outward, shockwaves chasing the clouds away. There was a scar on the sky…but the Breach was closed. She had done it.

            He hadn’t relaxed until he had seen her walk through Haven’s gates, her cousin’s arm slung over her shoulders and a small smile on her mouth at all the cheers ringing through the small town. He had caught her gaze for a moment, wanting nothing more than to pull her to him, to spin her through the air and then kiss the breath out of her but the moment had been lost before it had even begun. As preparations for the celebration had started, he had retreated to the War Room and had been here ever since, listening to the sounds of revelry that were going on outside.

            But he still heard the door open over the din.

            “Are you not going to join in, Commander?”

            He looked up to see Josephine standing just inside the doorway. “Later perhaps,” he said, dropping his gaze. “There’s still much to be done.”

            “But there is always tomorrow for that. Surely you can take one night to enjoy yourself a little?”

            “I…would rather stay here,” Cullen admitted.

            Josephine went quiet but he heard her heels click against the floor as she came up to the table. “I know you are a private man, Commander,” she said finally, “and I respect that. But this matter doesn’t concern only you, does it?”

            He sighed. “No, but it’s a personal matter. It doesn’t concern the Inquisition.”

            “Except it involves the Herald and therefore the Inquisition?”

            “Josephine, please,” he said quietly. “I’d rather not speak of it.”

            “Of course, Cullen. But if I may say something?”

            He nodded, wanting nothing more than to start pushing on his head again.

            “Your relationship with Elora is a personal matter but it is also a public one for the simple fact that you are the Commander of the Inquisition and she is the Herald. No matter what you do or do not choose to do, it will be hard for you to find a balance between who you are and who the world sees you as. You were partners before all of this began so you have a history that won’t be easy to ignore. I’ve already gotten questions about the nature of your relationship because people found out you both worked for the Order before coming here.”

            “What did you say?” he asked, his gut cramping. He wasn’t sure if it was lack of lyrium or nerves that made it do that though.

            “The truth; that you and Lady Trevelyan were partners in Kirkwall and that you preformed several missions together before joining the Inquisition.”

            “Thank you,” he said, but the words tasted sour in his mouth. His relationship with Elora? Did he even have a relationship with her beyond Commander and Herald now?

            “Cullen, a bit of friendly advice? T alk to Elora. For both your sake and hers. Even if you don’t necessarily talk about whatever is or isn’t going on between you, talk to her. You’ll both feel better for it and I’m sure Elora could use a break from having to smile for everyone that keeps coming to talk to her.”

            He rubbed the back of his neck, wishing he could will away the tension filling him. “I don’t think-”

            “Good. You shouldn’t be thinking about this. You should simply do when it comes to matters like this.”

            Cullen stared at her for a moment before laughing softly. “Perhaps you’re right,” he said slowly.

            “The work will be there tomorrow,” Josephine said with a smile. “Take at least part of tonight for yourself.”

            He threw one more glance at the reports he had before taking an unused marker and setting it down on them as a paperweight. But he didn’t miss the way Josephine’s eyes narrowed or the way her lips pursed. “Something wrong?”

            “Merely a wish to upgrade, Cullen,” she dismissed, waving her hand. “But that is for tomorrow.”

            He rounded the table but gestured for her to leave first and closed the door behind them both. They walked quietly through the main hall of the Chantry, the noise from outside growing louder with every step they took toward it. Wincing slightly as they stepped outside, he wondered how they were even making that much noise, even if the Breach being closed was cause to celebrate.

            Glancing at Josephine when she touched his arm, he quickly followed her finger when she pointed. “Thank you,” he said, seeing the lone figure standing between the scouts’ tents.

            “Have a good night, Commander.”

            Rubbing his hands against his pants, he slowly crossed the courtyard, keeping his gaze on her but questions started to surface with every step she took. Why was she alone? Where was her cousin? Why wasn’t she celebrating? Would she want him to disturb her solitude? Did she even want to talk to him? “Elora,” he said as he got closer.

            She stiffened and twisted at the waist to look at him. “Cullen? Is everything okay?”

            He opened his mouth to reassure her that everything was fine but he stopped as he came up beside her. “No,” he admitted, “and I suppose it’s my own fault.”

            She was still looking at him but he watched the people dancing and celebrating for a moment. She was clearly waiting for him to say more on the matter but he didn’t know what to say.

            “I’m sorry about before, I mean about the Templars. We couldn’t reach a decision about the matter and when you gave us a solution, I lashed out at you because it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I know how you feel about Templars and-”

            “I have the utmost respect for the Templars,” she interrupted. “The ones at the Academy were nothing but kind and tolerant and exactly what the Templars were supposed to be. It was the ones in Kirkwall, specifically the ones at the Gallows that I didn’t like or trust. I know not all of them are the same, Cullen.”

            He pressed his lips together and blew out a harsh breath. “Could we go somewhere more quiet?” he asked, finally looking at her. “I can’t think with all of this noise and it isn’t helping my headache.”

            “Of course,” she said immediately. “Did you want to go back into the Chantry?”

            “No, I want….” He took her hand and lead her back toward the Chantry but off to the side, through one of the open arches. He started to drop her hand when he realised he was still holding her but stopped when her fingers tightened on him. “Elora, I’m sorry about… everything.”

            Her lips quirked faintly. “Everything? That’s a lot to be sorry for, Cullen. How about we get a little more specific? You’ve already apologized about the whole Templar thing, although I’m still a little hurt that you just hung up on me.”

            He flinched. “I, ah….”

            “You’re allowed to be angry, Cullen, but I didn’t want this. I didn’t choose to be called the Herald of Andraste or to be suddenly made responsible for so many decisions. I chose to come with you back to the Inquisition, yes, but I didn’t expect to be pitted against you on matters like this. The mages were the easiest solution to our problem. I chose the mages and you got _mad_ at me for it, like I was personally attacking you.”

            He bowed his head, sighing slowly. He had taken it personally when it was supposed to be a professional matter. He looked back at her when she lifted his chin.

            “I didn’t appreciate that, Cullen,” Elora said honestly. “The council couldn’t make a decision so I did.”

            “I know and you closed the Breach.”

            She huffed out a breath, looking away this time. “Don’t remind me.”

            “But it’s a good thing. Things can start to heal, go back to normal after this.”

            Green eyes peeked at him. “And us?” she said softly. “Are we going back to normal?”

            “Have we ever had normal?” he muttered. “We’ve accidentally summoned demons, traipsed through bogs that summon the undead, you went to the future and walked in the Fade while I was in the horror that Kirkwall became, and now we’re here.”

            “Alone, in the shadows of the Chantry,” Elora murmured.

            Cullen paused at that, looking down at her. She was leaning back against the side of the building, his hand in hers still but the other hand fallen to rest on his chest. She had a small smile on her face as she watched him and he was sure his heart thumped under her hand. “We should talk,” he said slowly.

            “We are talking,” she countered.

            “About us,” he clarified.

            “I thought we were?”

            “I mean, about our future, Elora. If we have one. If you want one, that is. Because in the Western Approach you sounded like you didn’t. No, please,” he said quickly when she went to speak. “Let me finish?”

            She relaxed against the wall again, waiting patiently.

            He had a moment to gather his thoughts as a cheer went up from the crowd. He threw a glare in the direction of it but sighed as he looked back at her. “It scared me,” he admitted. “To think that you might not want to be together, I mean. I realised in Kirkwall I’d made a mistake leaving you behind. Not because of the danger, I still wouldn’t have wanted you there for that, but because I missed _you_. I was so used to you being there, backing me up, talking with me, just being there, that when you weren’t it wasn’t right. I wanted you by my side and just when I thought it might happen Barris told me that he had lost you. But then you were there in Redcliffe and I didn’t want to let you go. But I had to, with the Inquisition, the mark on your hand, everything. I don’t…Elora, I don’t want to let you go again, but if you tell me that you don’t want this, whatever it is that’s growing between us, I’ll accept that. I can’t say that I’ll like it or that I’ll move on quickly, but I will accept it.”

            “And that’s what you want?” she said quietly. “A relationship? Like an actual relationship, boyfriend-girlfriend kind of relationship?”

            His throat felt dry but he said, “Yes.”

            “Even though I’m the Herald and you’re the Commander?”

            “I don’t want to be the Commander with you. I want to be Cullen, just Cullen.” He paused for a moment. “If that’s enough for you.”

            “I’m not going to lie, the way things have been has hurt,” she said quietly. “Bouncing between Elora and Herald and never knowing where I stand with you. I…I’ll admit I’ve been avoiding you because of that, avoiding this conversation honestly.”

            His heart sunk at those words but he stayed quiet. She had let him talk, he would do the same for her.

            “I was trying to distance myself from it, trying to tell myself that now isn’t the time. The world is falling apart and I wanted to have a relationship? Isn’t that the most selfish thing ever? Thinking about myself when I’m supposed to be saving the world?” Elora sighed and her head thumped back against the wall. Her eyes never left him though. “But…I want something for myself, something that’s mine in this mess that my life’s become, something to keep me grounded and remind me why I’m doing all of this.”

            “What do you want, Elora?” he asked when she fell silent.

            Her brows drew together and her fingers curled into his shirt. “You,” she said softly. “And me. Us. Just Cullen and Elora. I want that. I want to try. We can…at least try can’t we?”

            His free hand lifted to stroke a loose strand of hair back from her face and he let his fingers trail down her cheek. “We can do more than try,” he agreed.

            Her eyes darted back and forth over his face. “I want this,” she whispered.

            “So do I,” Cullen breathed, stepping closer to her.

            “Kiss me,” she pleaded. “Please, Cullen, I-” Her hands tightened on him as he did what she wanted, cutting her off mid-sentence. But she quickly let go, standing on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

            He backed her into the wall to pin her there, pressing against as much of her as he could. He felt her sigh against him, shifting on her toes, and it made him smile.

            “What?” she mumbled.

            “You’re very short,” he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.

            She huffed at him, nipping his bottom lip. “I’m fun sized,” she growled.

            A short bark of laughter left him. “Elora….”

            “I want more kisses,” she whispered. “Can we go back to kissing and not talking about me being the same height as a dwarf?”

            “You’re taller than dwarves,” he pointed out, kissing her quickly and getting an irritated noise.

            “Stop talking about my height and kiss me!”

            “Maybe I want you to kiss mmph!” Cullen barely had a chance to breathe as Elora’s mouth met his, her tongue swiping over his lower lip. His hands fell to her hips, gripping her tightly as she kissed him. She wasn’t holding anything back, teasing and flirting, nipping at him, moving her lips against his.

            He shifted on his feet, rubbing against her as his pants felt too tight. That hadn’t taken long and he would have been more embarrassed of that if it weren’t for the fact that she seemed delighted to push back against him. Fisting his hands in her shirt, he tugged it out of the waistband of her pants and quickly slipped under the fabric.

            She gasped against him as he slid his fingers over her, stroking every curve he found. “I don’t, maybe don’t,” she whispered.

            “Don’t what? Touch you?” he said in surprise.

            It was her turn to shift but she was more squirming. “It sounds silly when you say it.”

            Because it was silly. At least to him. “I’ve been waiting to touch you, to kiss you and you don’t want me to?”

            “I do but I just….”

            “Elora,” he murmured, his hands moving to tease open her belt. “I’ve picked you up, held you close, seen you without your shirt on…do you honestly think that I don’t want to touch you?”

            She was blushing and avoiding his gaze. “You could have changed your mind.”

            “I haven’t,” he assured her. “Maker’s breath, Elora, I haven’t.”

            Her eyes flicked up to him before she gasped sharply as he slid his hand into her pants. “Oh! Cullen!”

            Maybe it was too much, too soon, but when she bit her lip and stared up at him hotly, he slid his hand further down. He groaned when he touched slick flesh, leaning forward until his forehead was resting against hers. “Elora, you’re….”

            Her feet spread further apart and a long sigh left her. “I know,” she whispered. “Maker, I know.”

            Well it was nice to know he wasn’t the only one that was affected so easily. He moved his hand as deep into her panties as he could. He was cupping her now, fingers lightly rubbing against her wet sex. She was rocking against him, helping him move. Her hands were fisted in his shirt now, tugging on the front of it. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed, bracing one arm against the wall so he could lean over her.

            Her brow pinched slightly and she shook her head.

            “You are,” he insisted, his gaze moving over her flushed face. “Sweet Maker, Elora, you are.”

            A sound left her that was part gasp, part moan as she pushed her hips into his hand. “I’m not...the pretty one,” she mumbled.

            His grin was tight in response to that. He’d heard about what Varric had said, gossip travelled fast in any group of people, but he didn’t agree. Watching her right now, with the colour on her cheeks and the desire in her eyes, he truly didn’t agree. Maker’s breath, how had he actually wound up with her? After everything that had happened, how had they finally come together? Except they hadn’t, in the literal sense, but they-

            “Wait, what is that?” Elora whispered suddenly.

            Cullen didn’t want to stop but he could hear it too. He turned to look at the rest of Haven, frowning. It was hard to focus when Elora was still shifting against him, moving his hand against her. “Are those…the front line alarms?”

            “Shit,” she said softly. “Shit!”

            They were definitely the alarms. Looking back at her, he saw her staring at him, colour high and pupils blown wide. They couldn’t finish this now. His free hand caught her chin and he tipped her face up a little bit further. Kissing her hard, he pulled his hand out of her pants and popped his fingers in his mouth as he leaned back from her. She made a noise as she openly stared at him. “Get yourself straightened,” he said quickly, reaching down to rearrange himself so it wasn’t completely obvious the state he was in. “Then meet me at the gate.”

            “Cullen, be careful,” she whispered, nodding.

            He wanted to kiss her again but the alarms were getting louder meaning more were being triggered closer to town. He didn’t hesitate, running through Haven to get to the front gate. He shouted orders as he went, glad to see people responding quickly despite the revelry they’d just been partaking in. “What’s going on?” he demanded of someone at the gate.

            “Don’t know, Ser! Spy Master is up on the wall and wants to talk to you!”

            He muttered under his breath but hauled himself up the ladder to where Leliana was. She didn’t say anything to him when he got there, simply held out a pair of binoculars to him. “What in the Void am I looking at?” he growled, staring at the dark shapes sweeping down the mountain.

            “Advance forces of a larger host,” Leliana said lowly. “They’ll be coming over the mountains at any moment.”

            Cullen clenched his teeth as he swept over the mountains, trying to find something, anything, that would identify them, but they were only unknown enemies at this point.

            “The Herald is here,” Leliana said, tapping his shoulder before sliding down the ladder.

            He lowered the binoculars but slung the strap over his arm as he followed her back down to the ground. His stomach lurched as he saw Elora, saw the flush still on her cheeks, but he forced it down. He could hear questions being asked but it was dull noise in his ears because he knew what was going to happen, knew what he was going to have to tell her to do.

            By the way her mouth flattened she knew too.

            “Under what banner?”

            Cullen shook himself slightly at Josephine’s question, his gut still tight. “None,” he said flatly.

            “None?” she repeated in shock, but his focus was on Elora as she moved around them to stare hard at the closed gates.

            Before anyone could say anything more, there was a crash and an explosion on the other side of the wood and the distinct sound of a body sliding to the ground.

            “I can’t come in unless you open!” a voice cried from the other side.

            “Elora,” Cullen said sharply as she moved forward immediately.

            But the gates were already being opened for her and he didn’t hesitate to follow her through them. The young man on the other side of the gate wasn’t what he was expecting and he caught Elora’s arm before she could get too close to him.

            “I’m Cole,” he said, locking onto Elora almost immediately. “I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know that.”

            Cullen’s grip tightened on Elora and he wasn’t comforted by her patting his hand. Something wasn’t right about the boy but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

            “What’s going on? What is this about?” He’d give Elora credit; her voice was a lot calmer than his would have been.

            The boy’s head cocked to the side, shaggy hair falling over his eyes under the floppy hat he was wearing. “Templars come to kill you.”

            Elora stiffened next to him and he reacted. Hauling her back, he took a step toward the boy in the mismatched fatigues. “Templars?” he demanded as this Cole jumped away from him. “Is this the Order’s response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?”

            Elora caught his arm, tugging him back before he could get too close to the boy. “Cullen, calm down,” she said softly, squeezing him.

            Calm down? How could he-

            “The Red Templars went to the Elder one. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages.”

            “The mages aren’t anyone’s,” Elora said firmly, “but I’ve heard of this Elder One. How do you-”

            “There,” Cole interrupted, pointing to the mountains.

            Cullen lifted the binoculars to follow the direction and felt his blood run cold at what he saw. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be! He’d thought him dead and…what in the Maker’s name was with him? “I know the man with him, Samson…but this Elder One…I don’t.” He refused to give Elora the binoculars when she tried to take them, giving her a look when she growled at him.

            “Then give me a plan,” she said shortly when he wouldn’t budge.

            He thought fast. “We can’t defend Haven like this,” he said shortly. “If we are to withstand that monster, we must control the battle. Get out there and hit it with everything that you can.”

            Elora nodded shortly, looking over her shoulder at the gate. “Shit, Cullen?”

            He didn’t need to look to know that people were gathering on the stairs. He took one small moment to look at her before he was turning to the crowd. “Mages!” he said sharply, pitching his voice to carry and was pleased when several snapped to attention. “You have sanction to engage the enemy! That is Samson and he will not make it easy!”

            He saw gloves spark to life, guns and machetes being readied as he took a breath.

            “Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!”

            The cheer that came up was more of a roar and rivalled the sounds the celebration had been making. The troops and mages surged past him, taking up positions as they were trained to do. He saw Cassandra, Ionas, and Dorian pass him, heading straight for Elora.

            “Keep her safe,” he said shortly, heading back up the stairs. He didn’t want to, wanted to go with her but he had other matters he had to attend. “Leliana, Josephine, we have to get the people back. The refugees, the clergy, the townspeople, take them to the Chantry. It’s the only building that might be able to withstand heavy artillery.”

            Josephine clearly didn’t like the sounds of that but she moved off without hesitation. Leliana looked between him and the gate. “My scouts will sweep the town, make sure there’s no stragglers,” she told him before she went to do Maker knew what.

            Cullen looked over his shoulder as the doors of the gate swung shut and soldiers took position along the wall. They weren’t ready for this. They absolutely weren’t but they were going to make as much of a stand as they could.


	24. Found You

 

            Flipping his collar up, Cullen ignored the way his breath was steaming in front of him in the cold. He didn’t know how long they’d been moving before they’d found the small valley they’d set up camp in. He’d tried to stay busy, keeping track of soldiers and civilians as they had stopped to rest but his thoughts had caught up with him no matter what he tried to do. The questions had piled one after another until there were too many to ignore.

            How many had they lost? Where were they going? How had the enemy managed to get to them so fast without them knowing? What was even going on in the Templar’s minds? What was Samson doing? What in the Maker’s name had been that thing?

            Then they had all boiled down to one question: Where was Elora?

            The team she had gone with had joined them hours ago but she hadn’t been with them. When Ionas had realised it, they’d barely been able to keep him contained. It had taken Bull practically hamstringing him to keep him from running back into the mountains to search for his cousin. Even then, it had been close and that made Cullen even more cautious. If Bull had a hard time subduing him, how many people would it actually take if Ionas snapped? Because he had a bad feeling that the man wasn’t as sane as he was making himself out to be. Elora had told the Advisors how long he’d been in the desert and that much time alone, fighting for your life, did things to a person.

            They were currently on a refuel break, to get warm and eat before they headed back out to look for stragglers. He didn’t like it anymore than Ionas but he knew that Cassandra would haul them both off the search parties if they didn’t follow the schedule that had been set up. She had originally lead her own team once she and the others had rejoined the main host, but she’d quickly joined the group he and Ionas had been on when it became obvious they weren’t following the rules.

            But, Maker take him, he needed to find her. He refused to believe she was gone and was going to do everything in his power to find her. The location they were at now would serve as good place to regroup and figure out what they were going to do. But they all knew it would be for naught if they didn’t find Elora. She was the only one that could seal the rifts and the Inquisition needed her.

            He needed her.

            Cullen rubbed his hands over his face before cupping them in front of his mouth to puff air onto them. That small amount of time together couldn’t be all the Maker was going to give them. Surely it wasn’t. Not when they had just started taking steps to actually be together. He couldn’t let their last interaction be those few minutes in the Chantry when he had had to send her to face that dragon or archdemon or whatever that beast had been. It didn’t matter if he had hauled her to him for a kiss before she had left. It didn’t matter if she had kissed him back as desperately as he had kissed her. None of that mattered if she didn’t come back.

            _“Promise me you’ll come back to me.”_

_“I promise I will.”_

            His hands came up to push on his eyes. He didn’t stop even when he saw stars. He’d promised and come back to her. She had promised and he didn’t know where she was. She could be buried under all the rubble in Haven, snow and debris keeping her where no one would find her. She could have been killed when that monster and dragon separated her from the others. She could have frozen out in the mountains, wandering through the snow trying to find them. She could have made it partially and collapsed from her wounds.

            “Shit,” he muttered.

            “Hello to you too.”

            Cullen grimaced, his hands falling from his face at the voice.

            “Did you eat?”

            He turned to look at Cassandra, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the spots and stars in front of them. “I did.”

            She didn’t look like she believed him once he could see her face. “Did you eat enough?” she corrected.

            “I did,” he repeated, glancing over the camp.

            “And the headaches?”

            Cullen sighed. “Stronger,” he admitted. He’d had to tell someone and Cassandra had been the perfect person. She’d found out about it in the days after Elora had sealed the Breach the first time, while the newly called Herald had been recovering. She was the person most suited to deal with him if anything happened and she knew him, knew when his performance would start slipping. “But I can handle it.”

            “I never said you couldn’t.”

            He fell silent, wondering what more he could really say.

            “It isn’t your fault.”

            “Isn’t it?” he demanded. “I’m the one that sent her out there. I’m the one that told her to be a distraction while the rest of us escaped. You know Elora. You know she refused to be responsible for anyone else dying. She would have taken that order to heart and not left until everyone else was safe. I knew that when I told her to slow the enemy down.”

            “And she chose to go, Cullen.”

            “Because there weren’t any other options,” he said sharply. “I sent her to her death.”

            Cassandra studied him quietly. “You’ve spent the most time with Elora. Do you really think she would have gone if she didn’t fully agree with the orders? Because I remember her wanting to attack me in the Mire when she found out about my mission. You might have said the order out loud but Elora knew what needed to be done.”

            That didn’t make him feel any better. “I should have been with her,” he muttered.

            “You would have been separated from her just as we were and our people might not have made it without you. Leliana and Josephine are more than capable but you know how to lead troops and mobilize them. You know how to take command and that’s what we needed. The Commander.”

            “I know,” Cullen sighed. “I know.”

            “You both had jobs to do and you did them, Cullen. To the best of both of your abilities, you did them.”

            That really didn’t make him feel better.

            Cassandra squeezed his shoulder. “Ten more minutes and we’ll head out on the last sweep for the night.”

            He nodded, hating everything she said except what was in the middle. He didn’t want to wait and he didn’t want it be the last search. But the mountain passes were too treacherous to navigate in the complete dark and what light sources they had weren’t enough to show all of the pitfalls. They couldn’t spare the mages, all of them on healing and guard duty, so they had set a curfew for when the last scouting party could go out to search for survivors.

            Ten minutes. Turning to the tents, he quickly ducked into the one that had the items of his that he’d been able to grab before they’d fled. Stripping his fatigue jacket off, he pulled his leather jacket on quickly. It was lined better and more suited to the colder temperatures. He should have put it on sooner but he’d been moving enough not to notice. Now that they were higher up, he definitely needed it.

            Cullen tensed when he heard the tent flap move behind him, his hand moving to one of the guns tucked in with his things.

            “I could probably crush your head before you got the shot off, Commander.”

            That was _not_ reassuring. “Ionas,” Cullen said evenly, grabbing a pair of gloves. “Did you need something?”

            “I’m trying to figure out why Ella went back to the Order after everything the Chantry put her through. Since you were her Templar partner, I figure you’d be the best person to know the answer.”

            Standing smoothly, he turned to face the other man. Ionas was barely inside the tent, arms crossed over his chest and looking at Cullen like he was the root of every problem with the Chantry. The way he said Templar made Cullen’s skin crawl. “I don’t know. Maybe she was lonely.” Shit. He didn’t want to antagonize the other man but the words had slipped out.

            Somehow those black eyes got colder. “Do you even know what she had to go through?”

            “She didn’t want to talk about it. She barely wanted to talk about her research.”

            His mouth flattened and he looked away. “She doesn’t remember a whole heck of a lot. Not her time in intensive care or recovery after it. Or the fucking hoops the Chantry made her jump through to prove she was innocent of killing her team.”

            “She still thinks she’s responsible for their deaths.”

            “She isn’t,” Ionas snapped. “You’ve known her for how long now? Do you honestly think that Elora would _ever_ do that to someone, to the people she had trained with for years? To the man she looked up to most while she was in the Academy?”

            “Of course not,” Cullen growled. “I never said that she did it, only that she thinks it was her fault.”

            “It wasn’t but the Chantry wanted her to think that. Put her on all those pills to make her feel better they said. It wasn’t my fucking cousin, not my Ella, that I helped out of the hospital. All the therapy and prescriptions they put her on sucked the life out of her. They said it was to help with the memories, to keep her from losing herself to them. That’s a load of shit. They wanted her to doubt herself, wanted her to doubt what had happened but more than that they didn’t want her fucking talking about it. They fucking crippled her with that therapy and the drugs so she’d never talk to anyone about any of it.”

            Cullen eyed Ionas warily. He’d seen what he could do with those arms and he could hear the faint whirring of them under Ionas’ clothes, meaning they were calibrating and recalibrating as he no doubt clenched his fists and tensed up more than he should. He’d also seen the random outbursts of temper that were clearly left over from his time in the sun and he did not need that right now. “Ionas,” he said calmly. “That isn’t important right now.”

            “Ella’s fucking important,” Ionas snarled. “She’s so important and not because of a fucking mark on her hand. Not because people are calling her the Herald of Andraste, which is a load of shit. She’s important because she’s Ella.”

            “I know,” Cullen stressed.

            “What do you know? You weren’t there when she broke down because of night terrors, because of the holes in her memory, because she thought she wasn’t good enough anymore.”

            “I was there through all the days she was worried about you,” Cullen pushed back, lashing out before he took a deep breath. Getting mad right now was going to land him in a fight he wasn’t going to win. “She’s been through a lot,” he continued, “but she’s still here.”

            Ionas stared at him, breaths coming in shorter pants that had Cullen worried. He was working himself up too much. He needed to calm Ionas down but he was probably the man’s least favourite person in the whole of camp. “You believe that?” he said suddenly, his voice wavering. “That she’s still alive?”

            “Yes,” Cullen said without hesitation. “I refuse to believe otherwise until someone shows me proof that she isn’t.”

            “She had a mountainside fall on her. Fuck me, I should have been there,” he growled, his hands creaking as he clenched them further. “She’s always alone. They left her down in that Thaig for fucking Maker knows how long. She should have bled out. Why didn’t she bleed out? No one could figure it out. No one had an answer. Thought they did it to herself, tried to make it seem like she didn’t do it. Fucking Void! Why is she always alone?!”

            Cullen wanted to know more about what Ionas was talking about, knowing it was about the accident that had gotten Elora’s team killed five years ago. Clearly he knew more about it than Elora or more than she was willing to say. But he didn’t have the time right now. He could not afford to have Ionas breaking down on them now. He’d still insist on coming with them and he wouldn’t be allowed if he was on the verge of a panic attack. “Ionas, breathe,” he said, his voice low and as calm as he could make it. “I need you to breathe. Elora needs you to breathe.”

            His hands came up to push on his head for a moment. “Shouldn’t have left her alone,” he muttered. “Always fuck it up in the end. Wanted to keep her safe. Wanted to keep her away from the fuck up. Didn’t work. Never works. She always finds me. No, I always find her. Found her in the garden. Found the fire. Found her. Found them. Did they find us?”

            “Ionas,” Cullen repeated, knowing he was losing the other man. He didn’t know if Bull was ready to go another round with the Trevelyan but they were going to need him if Ionas didn’t pull it together right now. “We are going to look for Elora. She found you and now you’re going to find her. She promised me she’d come back and she’s going to come back.”

            “It was my fault she was sent away. My fault she got left behind. It’s always-”

            “Stop,” Cullen said, a little sharper than he had intended. But Ionas’ words ceased and he stared at Cullen. “We’re going to find her, Ionas. She is alive and we’re going to find her. I’m not going to stop until I find her.”

            Ionas’ head canted to the side, the faint whirring and clicking still filling the tent. “Fuck me, you’re in-”

            “Are you two ready to go? The Seeker wants to head out.”

            Cullen breathed a faint sigh of relief. He might have been Ionas’ least favourite person, but Dorian was clearly one of the few that he actually seemed to like. “Give us a second,” he called. “We’ll be right there.”

            Ionas had shifted slightly, turning toward the opening of the tent. His gaze stayed on Cullen for a long moment. “Shit,” he muttered, pushing the tent flap aside angrily and storming out.

            Cullen wasn’t sure Ionas should be going out but he wasn’t going to try to stop him now. Tugging his gloves on, he left the tent as well, following Ionas to where Cassandra was waiting with the other scouts that would come with them. “Are you coming?” he asked Dorian quietly as he passed.

            “Should I?”

            “He’s on edge,” Cullen muttered.

            “We all are, Commander.”

            “Not all of us have a pair of arms that can snap a person in two.”

            “And you think I could stop him somehow if he decided that was the best course of action?”

            “I think he listens to you and likes you far more than anyone else here.” Cullen sighed. “You don’t have to come. I know you don’t like patrolling.”

            “I don’t,” Dorian agreed, “but since Elora is my friend I’d rather like to find her.”

            Cullen watched him increase his stride to come up beside Ionas but the other man seemed to barely react to him being there. “Don’t ask,” he muttered to Cassandra as they started out.

            She didn’t say anything, the group spreading out as they moved away from camp. There was only one entrance and exit to the valley so most of their search efforts had been around the entrance but even still. It was a long distance from camp and there hadn’t been signs of life for hours, not since the last of the stragglers had made it in. Unless you counted the wolves.

            Which could be a serious problem if you were collapsed somewhere in the snow.

            Half an hour later, they hadn’t found anything and Cullen knew Cassandra wanted to call it a night. They weren’t going to find anything or anyone like this, even with Dorian helping to light the way. The winds were starting to kick up and they were biting right through every layer he had on. They needed to get back.

            Catching Dorian’s eye, Cullen gestured back at the camp. He saw the other man’s face tighten before he turned to Ionas. Cullen didn’t envy him that discussion and both him and Cassandra didn’t look away in case Dorian needed any help.

            “I’m not giving up on her!” Ionas said sharply.

            “Kaffas, Freckles, _no one_ is giving up on her,” Dorian stressed. “But she is going to skin you and me both if you hurt yourself looking for her when she only just got you back in one piece. For someone so small that woman is frighteningly good at making threats.”

            Ionas shook his head. “I can’t go back. Not until we find her.”

            Cullen rubbed his face again. They weren’t going to get anywhere with this. It might be a better course of action to radio Bull to get him and the Chargers out here to subdue Ionas to take him back to camp. He hated the thought of doing it but if it was the only way? He would do it.

            Reaching for his radio, he paused and twisted to look into the pass behind him. The wind was playing tricks on him. He’d thought he’d heard a weak voice but that couldn’t have happened, not with the way Ionas’ voice was rising and Dorian talking steadily to him to try to calm him down.

            “I’m calling Bull,” Cassandra said beside him.

            Cullen frowned, staring into the pass but not seeing anything. All of the lights were too far away. He squeezed his eyes shut as his temples throbbed before looking back at the others. “In the Maker’s name, be fucking quiet!” he snapped.

            The silence that followed was almost deafening and he saw Ionas’ head snap around to glare at him.

            Cullen lifted a hand to keep him from saying anything. “Just…be quiet,” he repeated, calmer as he turned back to the pass.

            He couldn’t hear anything else, refused to fully believe he had heard anything in the first place, but he still took a step into the pass. “Hello?” he called.

            No answer, only the wind.

            “Cullen-”

            “Shh!” He moved further into the pass, rounding the slight corner to see if he could get a better look. It was dark, almost too dark…but…maybe.

            A shadow moved, snow crunching faintly as it collapsed into it and his heart lurched even as he saw a spark of green in the darkness.

            “Elora!” he cried, running into the pass. He heard shouts behind him as he went but he didn’t care as he crashed to his knees in front of her. “Elora, look at me. Can you hear me?”

            Her head slowly lifted and she winced as the others came with the lights. “Cullen?” she rasped weakly.

            He winced himself as he saw the bruises and cuts on her face, the way she was cradling her right arm across her stomach, the bloodstains on her clothes. Maker, how hurt was she? But she was alive. “Yes, Elora,” he said, shrugging out of his jacket to wrap it around her. “It’s me.”

            She reached out to him weakly, gently touching his face. “Found you,” she whispered.

 

* * *

 

_Slowly easing into a chair, Elora tried not to groan. The healers had been working on her since Cullen had carried her back to the camp but she still wasn’t fully healed. The long walk through the mountains hadn’t helped either. They’d lost most of their supplies and vehicles when she had totalled Haven. Not that it had mattered since everyone was out by then but trudging through the Frostbacks had not been easily._

_“How are you doing?”_

_Elora sighed as she looked at Josephine. The rest of the Advisors were still gathered around her, even after what Varric had said about contacting someone she should talk to. “I just lifted a sword that’s nearly my height and quite possibly my weight,” she said, wincing as her ribs screamed in protest. “I’m peachy. Oh, and thanks for the whole ‘surprise we’re making you Inquisitor in front of everyone so you can’t fucking say no’. I really appreciated that.”_

_“You were already doing the job, Elora,” Leliana said, crouching in front of her. “It was only right we give you the title.”_

_She carefully leaned back, closing her eyes. “Doesn’t mean that I wanted it,” she whispered. “Now I’m actually responsible for everyone out there. My decisions are going to determine the fate of people’s lives and that’s not something I’ve ever wanted.”_

_A hand squeezed her shoulder and she knew without looking it was Cullen. He hadn’t strayed very far from her since he had found her in the snow and she would have been grateful for it if it wasn’t for the fact that Ionas was doing the same. Neither of them seemed to remember that they weren’t small men and it made her life very crowded with the two of them hovering over her. “You’re not alone, Elora. We’ll help with everything that we can to make this as easy as we can.”_

_“Like the whole mages and Templars thing? Because that wasn’t exactly an easy situation and none of you agreed on anything regarding it.”_

_Josephine sighed. “We’re going to disagree, Elora. There’s no getting around it. We all have different methods to approaching problems but whatever you choose, we will abide by your decisions. You are the Inquisitor.”_

            Elora opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling above her. You are the Inquisitor. She wasn’t sure she’d heard more ominous words in her life. She really had been hoping it was a bad dream from all of the pain but every time she walked among the people there were murmurs of Inquisitor. Directed at her. She wasn’t dreaming, this was real and she was really at the head of an organization in Thedas.

            “Fuck,” she groaned.

            She heard a mumble from beside the bed and turned to see who was doing the bedside vigil today. Despite her protests, both Cullen and Ionas had agreed that she needed to be monitored until she was fully healed. So they had drawn straws or cards or something to figure out who had gotten that first night and then they had started swapping.

            It was Cullen’s turn apparently because he was slouched in a chair, his feet up on the bed and a light blanket draped over him. It couldn’t have been warm but he didn’t seem to notice in his sleep. But she knew the chair was definitely uncomfortable because he always woke up with groans and complaints of aches that he quickly supressed when he looked at her. Especially that first night when she’d barely been able to move.

            Gingerly rolling to the edge of the mattress, she took her time sitting up. Spots were still tender and sore and she’d heard multiple whispers from people about how she was even alive after the first spirit healer had nearly exhausted themselves treating her wounds. After all of the major trauma had been healed, including the fracture in her right arm, they had been working in waves on the smaller things. She had put her foot down about it because she wasn’t the only one that was hurt and needed medical attention. Which meant she was left with hobbling and moving slowly and sitting a lot so not to hurt herself further.

            Reaching out, she carefully tucked the blanket around Cullen a little bit better. She would have liked to put more blankets on him but she was sure it would wake him up. And he needed all the sleep he could get. She knew he stayed up after she was asleep, working on reports and multiple schedules until he passed out. Usually with reports still in hand. Point in case, several sheets of paper were strewn on the floor from where they’d slid from his hand.

            “What am I going to do with you?” Elora murmured.

            She wanted to swear when his eyes blinked open, looking around groggily before they settled on her. He dislodged the blanket as he rubbed at his face. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he asked around a yawn.

            “Other way around actually. I woke you up.”

            “Oh.” He blinked again before frowning down at the papers. His frown deepened when her foot landed on them as he reached for them. “Elora, I need those.”

            “Not right now you don’t. It’s still early, Cullen. I’m pretty sure you can rest for a little while longer.”

            Cullen leaned back in the chair and gave her a look. “Same could be said to you,” he said quietly.

            “Hey, I’m still sitting here and the most strenuous thing I’m doing right now is talking to you. Which isn’t strenuous at all.”

            He smiled faintly before groaning. “I can get us something to eat,” he offered. “The cooks are probably up.”

            “No,” she said quickly. “You’ll get distracted and start working as soon as you’re out that door. Cullen, please. Just take a little break. Talk to me. Without being Commander informing the Inquisitor of how the excavation of the underground military base is going.”

            “Did you want to talk about the weather instead?”

            “I would kick you if you were closer.”

            Cullen chuckled and pushed himself out of the chair with a groan. She watched as he stretched, hearing his back and several other places pop. He ran his hands back through his hair, scratching slightly and completely destroying what was left of the style he’d had it in.

            “You should leave it like that.”

            “What? My hair? Maker, no,” Cullen said, shaking his head. “I endured enough comments on it in the Gallows to last a life time. And now that Olivia is here…no. I’m not going through that again.”

            “What’s wrong with curly hair?” Elora pouted.

            “Nothing. I simply prefer to do my hair this way.”

            She definitely preferred the curls. But it was his hair.

            “Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about?” he asked, shaking out the last of his aches as he looked back at her.

            “Do you think this is a really good idea?” she asked quietly. “Setting up a base here I mean.”

            He came over to kneel in front of her, catching her hands to rub them between his own. “I’ll admit the castle is outdated but the base that’s built below it? It’s exactly what we need, Elora. It’s fortified, away from the general populace and will work perfectly to keep the Inquisition troops safe. Once we get all of the elevators and systems operational, we’ll be better off than most of Thedas. From a defence perspective at least.”

            “But who even builds a secret military base under a castle in the middle of the Frostbacks? It doesn’t seem right.”

            “Probably from the Fury Age. Everyone was at war. A secret base like this would have been pretty common back then.”

            “Lucky us,” she said quietly.

            “I’d still like to know how Solas knew about it.”

            “He said it was the spirits. They’re always drawn to areas where major battles occur and Maker knows he’s always talking to the spirits it seems.” Elora sighed and looked at him. “Can you help me up? I think I slept wrong.”

            “Are you sure you don’t want to stay in bed then?” he asked, standing up anyways.

            She shook her head. “No, I want to be up.”

            Even though he was gentle, it still hurt as he helped her upright. She wound up leaning against him, fighting tears and trying not to gasp for air. She wanted Cullen to hug her, to hold her but doing that would only put pressure on the spots that hurt so his hands stayed at her waist.

            “I hate this,” she said petulantly.

            “You’re getting better,” he assured her.

            “Not really doing a good job of being Inquisitor when I’m freaking bed ridden for the first week.”

            “You had a mountain essentially fall on you. No one is expecting you to charge the world head on.”

            She wasn’t so sure about that. Josephine had told her that requests from across Ferelden and some from Orlais were starting to come in and they all said the same thing. They needed the Inquisitor. “Maybe you could just roll me down the mountain,” she muttered.

            Cullen laughed and she felt him kiss the top of her head. “No one’s going to do that. We’re all just glad you’re alive and in one piece, Elora. The world can wait until you’re ready to face it.”

            She never wanted to face it again but she knew that wasn’t an option. “Can I keep the coat to face it in?”

            He kept laughing. “No, you can’t have my coat and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t given it back.”

            “It’s ridiculously warm!”

            “I know that’s why I have it. We really need to get you warmer gear.”

            “Or I could just keep the coat.”

            “It’s too big for you. Josephine will never stand for it if you’re seen in public wearing my coat. The press would have a field day with it.”

            Elora grimaced. Right. That was a thing she had to think about. Not only her image as Inquisitor but also keeping her relationship with Cullen as quiet as possible at the moment. At least outside of the Inquisition. She was pretty sure everyone that was a part of it had figured it out by his constant hovering. Bumping her forehead against his chest, she muttered, “You still have time to pick a new Inquisitor.”

            “Not happening so stop saying that.”

            She started to sigh before she squeaked and jumped when the door of her room banged open. “Oh fucking Maker,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around herself as pain flared everywhere.

            “Shit, Ionas, what are you doing?!” Cullen demanded.

            “Fuck, Ella, sorry, but you need to come right now!”

            “Why?” she moaned.

            “Because I think Cassandra is going to kill Varric over the Hawke thing.”

            She groaned. “Fuck, okay, keep them from killing each other. I’ll get dressed and come right away.”

            Ionas nodded and she saw him toss a look at Cullen. “Nice hair, Commander.”

            Cullen’s eyes narrowed at him but Ionas was gone before he could say anything.

            “Your cousin isn’t funny,” Cullen grumbled.

            Elora sighed and hobbled toward where what was left of her clothes were. “I know but do you want to tell him that?”

            “Not really. Do you need help?”

            “I think I’m okay. If you hear screaming in two minutes, I lied.”

            Cullen smiled faintly and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll see if I can help Ionas keep them apart until you can get there.”

            Elora watched him go before sighing again. They needed to get the military base up and running as soon as possible because then they’d have more space to spread out. Hopefully it would prevent things like this from happening. But maybe not this one in particular since Varric had been poking at Cassandra since Elora had met him. It was only inevitable that this was going to happen.

            Now she only hoped that she’d be able to keep Cassandra from ringing his neck over keeping Hawke’s location a secret.


	25. The Calm (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter title implies, there is a nsfw scene below!

 

            Gingerly pushing herself up from the cot, Elora groaned softly and pressed a hand to her side. The healers said the damage wasn’t bad, mostly superficial thanks to her barrier holding, but it still hurt way more than she wanted it to. It didn’t help that the damage from the attack on Haven was barely healed, even with the weeks she’d been laid up in Skyhold. Adding to them wasn’t something she had been planning on doing.

            Of course, she hadn’t been expecting to get into a fight with a giant either.

            Her face twisted at that. Did anyone ever expect to get into a fight with a giant? She supposed she was glad that she hadn’t been alone but Dorian had spent nearly the entire fight yelling at her and Ionas for getting them into that situation. Because they had completely done it on purpose. Ionas had just wanted to look at the little oasis, to take in the little miracle in the middle of the desert he hadn’t really wanted to come back to. So they had decided to take the shortcut through one of the mines to get a better view and run smack into the giant. That she had been told hadn’t been sighted in a while.

            Well. No one would be sighting it now.

            It took a moment but Elora pushed off of the cot and hobbled across the room to her trunk. It took even longer for her to lean over enough to get it open and rummage through it to find her own medicine. She trusted the healers, but she had a cream that would numb her muscles enough so that she could at least move without feeling like she was eighty.

            She heard an electronic chirp as she managed to find the cream. Hobbling back to the cot, she fought the urge to flop on it and gingerly tugged her shirt off. It hurt but she tried to ignore it as best she could. When the chirp came again, she sat down with a long groan and set the jar aside to pick up her phone. Her _new_ phone since Josephine had insisted that a new one would be better for what her role now was and to keep more of the media away from her. Higher security, more fancy features than she’d ever need, and peace of mind. Apparently Varric getting her number unlisted wasn’t enough.

            Elora was almost positive the real reason was so that it didn’t matter where she was on the continent her council would be able to get a hold of her.

            Her lips turned upward when she saw that it wasn’t any of the council but Ionas. He was laid up in the actual healer’s tent, taking the brunt of the damage because he’d been foolish and charged the giant at the last moment. He’d pouted when she’d been cleared to return to her tent because Dorian had refused to stay with the foolish man, clearly mad at him for the stunt he had pulled, and she was impressed it had taken him this long to actually reach out in his boredom.

            _The Templar’s here._

_And he’s not happy._

            Her smile vanished at the two texts. There were plenty of former Templars in the Inquisition’s ranks but there was only one person that Ionas referred to like that. She wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that her cousin didn’t seem to overly care for Cullen, was more than a little worried that he might blame Cullen for everything that had happened to her in the past months. It wasn’t a thought she relished, her best friend and probably boyfriend not liking each other, and she’d have to talk to Ionas soon to see if it was actually Cullen that he had a problem with or if it stemmed back to his dislike of the Chantry and all its arms. _How do you know that?_

            She set the phone where she could see it and twisted the lid off the jar while she waited. She’d barely gotten the cream on her fingers when his response came.

            _Came to the healer’s like he was on fire. Probably looking for you. Found me instead._

            Elora ran her teeth over her lip as she spread the cream over her ribs and along her side. Great. That meant that he definitely knew about the giant fight. But she hadn’t seen Cullen at all. Unless he was coming now?

            Grabbing her phone with her clean hand, she awkwardly answered. _What he say?_

            Finishing with as much as she could reach on the one side, she scooped up more cream and started on the other side. If he was coming to see her, she probably didn’t want to have her shirt off so he could see the new bruises she’d acquired. At the same time, she kind of wanted to leave the shirt off to see what he would do. With her healing and him overseeing a lot of the restorations to Skyhold, they hadn’t seen each other much. She’d understood why but having gone from waking up nearly every other day to him being there when they’d first gotten to Skyhold to him not being there had been strange.

            _Stared at me for a long time before asking if you were alright. Then he left. He not there yet?_

Elora’s shoulders slumped. She doubted he was going to come see her then because her tent wasn’t that far away from the healer’s. He surely would have gotten here already. _No._

            Finishing with the cream, she wiped her fingers on her pants and saw Ionas text her again. _Well you’re supposed to be resting anyways._

            “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, slowly laying back on the cot. Except she didn’t want to rest. She’d had a quick nap and now she kind of wanted a hug. Or a cuddle. Maker, she would really like to cuddle right now. The muscle cream was working so she was feeling a little better but knowing that Cullen was here and most likely avoiding her now?

            Her brow wrinkled before she tried to think of something else. Like why Cullen was out here in the first place? They’d come to the Oasis as a pit stop to open another door before continuing on to scout out the Western Approach. She knew that she was expected back at Skyhold because they _had_ to go to the ball the Empress was holding. So they had agreed that this was just a scouting mission before she came back for the final fittings on her outfit and then on to Halamshiral.

            At one time, when she was very young, she had dreamt about going to Orlais, about being a princess that was welcome there. Now that the only parts of Orlais she had really seen had been desert she was completely disenchanted with the entire place. Even the thought of getting dressed up wasn’t that appealing to her.

            Maker, was she going to have to wear a corset under her clothes? Over her bruises?

            “Fuck,” she groaned, covering her face. Nothing was working out the way she wanted to. Nothing was making any sense and she just wanted a damn hug.

            She stared at the top of her tent for a second longer before she pushed herself back up. She tried to remember to move slower, that even though the pain was dulled, she was still very much hurt. Getting back to her trunk was hard when all she wanted to do was run at it. There was a single button down shirt that she had brought with her that would probably be the easiest thing to get on.

            Of course, she had forgotten that the tips of her fingers were numb from the cream so the buttons were a lot harder than they should have been. But she managed to get it fully done up before she started out of the tent. She’d left her boots on when she’d napped earlier and she was suddenly glad for it.

            Stopping at one of the water stations set between the tents, she quickly rinsed her hands as she looked around. The sun had set so the camp lights were on and illuminating the area. A few scouts and soldiers were moving around, but not as many as she remembered there being. Where was everybody? Where was Cullen?

            A small part of her cringed as she realised the requisitions officer was the closest person to her and she immediately felt bad. It wasn’t the woman’s fault that her job was keeping Elora informed of what supplies they needed while she was out. She was just doing her job and she probably knew that Elora not so subtly tried to avoid her. “Ah, Catriona?” she called softly.

            A startled face turned to her, as if she couldn’t believe that Elora knew her name. She didn’t feel like telling her it was because she felt bad about avoiding her so she had made sure to learn her name. “Yes, Ser? I don’t have anything for you right now.”

            “Oh, no, it’s not that. I meant to ask you if you’d seen where the Commander had gone? I was told that he was here and I thought it was odd since we’re not supposed to be running missions.” Unless he’d been sent to collect her to make sure she went back in time for Halamshiral. Fuck.

            “Oh, the Commander’s in the strategy tent, Your Worship. Been in there pretty much since he got here.”

            “Ah. Thank you.” Shit. Was she running a mission out here? After getting injured this was going to be interesting, but at least she knew where Cullen was.

            The camp wasn’t that big but it still felt like an hour before she got to the tent marked with the Inquisition flag. She heard quiet voices coming from inside and her steps quickened. Cullen was still in there at least. She wasn’t sure about who else but she would find out soon enough.

            Ducking under the flaps, she hung near the entrance as she saw him bent over the map, pointing at places to the soldiers that were gathered. No one seemed to notice her and she was thankful for that, letting her listen to what was going on.

            “We’ll have to move fast. The intel said that they’re likely to leave the area in the next few days, to get more supplies or people we don’t know. Either way we need to hit it before they do. There’s been reports that Templars, not infected with red lyrium, have been spotted. We’re unsure if they simply haven’t been infected yet or if they’re captives, but approach with extreme caution.”

            Elora’s stomach sank. They were running a mission. He was here to lead a mission.

            Cullen jabbed at a spot on the map. “It’s an old Tevinter ruin,” he continued. “Harding hasn’t been able to get close enough to figure out what kind of experiments are being preformed there. Given that most of those that have been spotted are Venatori, it’s likely something buried in the ruins that they’re looking for but we can’t let our guard down. There’s no telling who or what is under that sand.”

            “Yes, ser,” the soldiers barked together.

            “Most of the troops stationed here have been sent out to rendezvous with the rest of the teams in the Western Approach. The whole of the Inquisitor’s Inner Circle will be joining us and leading the first strike team. The rest of the troops will be divided into support groups that will help clear the ruins as we move forward.”

            “You’re coming with?” Elora said in surprise and immediately flushed as everyone turned to look at her. “Ah, sorry, for interrupting….”

            Cullen stared at her for a moment, his eyes quickly moving over her. “It’s fine, Inquisitor,” he said brusquely. “You have your orders. We’ll be leaving at dawn. Be ready.”

            “Ser!”

            Elora watched the soldiers filter out, toying with the edges of her shirt. “I’m sorry, Cullen, I was just surprised,” she tried to explain.

            He waved it off. “You’ve every right to be surprised. You weren’t informed of the operation or my involvement in it until now.”

            He did not sound happy with her. Or maybe not even happy to see her. “So Josephine and Leliana think it’ll be a quick mission?” she asked hesitantly.

            “They did. I’m not sure it will be now with you and Ionas injured. Elora, what were you even thinking? Fighting a giant?” he demanded, his voice tense.

            “Because I did it on purpose?” she said in shock. “It was an accident, Cullen. The last reports hadn’t said _anything_ about the giant being there.”

            He shoved his hands through his hair, pacing on the opposite side of the tent. “I know,” he said lowly. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but, Maker’s breath, you’ve barely healed!”

            “You don’t have to tell me that. I’m the one that’s in pain.”

            He stumbled slightly and caught himself on the table as he passed it. “Ah, are you alright?” he asked. “I should have checked on you but the troops needed to be deployed.”

            She nodded, loosely wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s alright,” she lied.

            He didn’t look convinced but he seemed at a loss for what to say.

            “For what it’s worth, I am sorry, Cullen,” Elora said quietly, rubbing her arms. “I didn’t mean for it to happen but we could have taken more precautions or tried harder to retreat.”

            She saw his shoulders slump and a harsh sigh left him. His head turned to look at her, his brows drawn tight over his eyes. “Do you ever stay out of trouble?” he complained quietly.

            “I want to say that I used to be good at it, but the gaping hole in my memory points to a no.”

            He flinched. “You still don’t remember anything?”

            She shrugged, rubbing her arms harder. She got flashes every now and then and she knew that she was probably close to remembering whatever had happened. But she also knew that she was terrified to find out. What if the Templars that had questioned her when she had woken up were right and she had killed her team?

            “Hey, Elora, come here.”

            Shuffling across the room, she sighed as he hugged her, pulling her in close to him. This was what she had been looking for, she just wished it had happened first. Burying her face in his shirt, she sighed deeply at the scent of him. Even with the subtle changes in it, she still loved the way he smelt. His hands moved over her back, rubbing in soothing sweeps and it made her relax all the more into him.

            “Whatever happens,” Cullen said quietly, “I’m here for you. You know that right?”

            Looping her arms around his waist, she nodded against him. “It works both ways, you know,” she murmured.

            He chuckled softly and she felt his cheek rest on the top of her head. “Of the two of us, I think you’ve got the harder job.”

            Was he ever going to come out and tell her? “Yeah, thanks for that.” Elora sighed. “Maker, this isn’t what I signed up for when you and Cassandra showed up on my door.”

            “Tell me about it,” he groaned. “But it hasn’t all been bad…has it?”

            “No,” she agreed. “There’s been good.”

            “I mean, you did find your cousin after all.”

            Shifting so she could look up at him, Elora stared for a long moment. “If you think that’s the only good thing that’s happened since I joined the Order with you, you’re severely mistaken.”

            He gave her a small, lopsided smile that drew her gaze back to that scar in his lip. How had she ever thought that she hated the mark? Because she couldn’t think of anything except how she wanted to kiss it now. “I suppose there’s been other things,” he conceded.

            “Do you want me to spell it out for you? You,” she said firmly. “Cullen, none of this would have happened without you.”

            “I don’t know about that. You have a knack for getting into trouble.”

            “Except I would still be in Kirkwall if you hadn’t come talk to me after I didn’t show. I never would have joined if it weren’t for you. Andraste, I could have been killed if I had stayed in Kirkwall,” she whispered, the thought stunning her. She hadn’t thought about that before. Or not in this way at least. She’d thought about what all could have happened if she’d gone back to Kirkwall with Cullen, but not if she hadn’t ever left. She hadn’t had the protection of the Order or the Academy. She’d been a mage living on her own with at least one neighbour that didn’t like her.

            “Thank the Maker you weren’t. Hey, easy,” he murmured when he realised that she was shaking. “You’re alright. You weren’t there. You’re alright.”

            Elora let out a shaking breath, trying to stop the flow of thoughts that were running through her. “I could have died.”

            “But you didn’t. You’ve survived all odds and come back to me. I mean,” he said, flushing, “you’ve come back to us, the Inquisition.”

            She smiled softly, her hands tightening in his shirt as she stood on her toes. Brushing her mouth against his, she murmured, “It’s alright to think I’m coming back to you.”

            “I shouldn’t.”

            “Why not? We’re dating aren’t we? Are we? Did we ever actually say that we were?” she asked, suddenly confused. “We were kind of interrupted.”

            “I think it’s kind of been an unspoken agreement for a while.”

            “Starting when you kissed me in Redcliffe?”

            “I was thinking maybe when you came to my room later.”

            She felt a warm flush rush through her as she thought about what they had done in his room, even though it hadn’t been much. Which led back to thoughts of what they had done in Haven.

            “Either way, I suppose it was in Redcliffe, wasn’t it?”

            Elora nodded weakly. She didn’t know if it was the painkillers she had been given that were making her thoughts fuzzy or just being close to him. But she was having a hard time pulling back to the topic at hand.

            “Elora?”

            “Sorry, what?” she asked, jerking slightly.

            Cullen studied her, a puzzled look on his face. “What were you thinking about?”

            “Redcliffe,” she said slowly.

            He didn’t seem convinced. “Anything in particular?”

            She puffed out her cheeks, not sure if she wanted to admit that she had gotten distracted by thoughts of them making out. “Ah….”

            Her hesitation seemed to be all the answer he needed. “Ah,” he repeated. He blinked and pursed his lips for a moment before murmuring, “I…think about it too.”

            She wasn’t sure but she thought he shifted against her, grinding a little against her belly. “And Haven?” she asked softly.

            He was definitely pushing against her now, slow rocks that had her toes curling as she felt him hardening. “Yes, I definitely think about that,” he said lowly.

            “We…never really got to finish that,” Elora whispered, not wanting to hope that they could continue.

            “We didn’t,” he agreed.

            “Do you want to?” she breathed.

            Cullen blinked at her again, his gaze darting to the entrance of the tent. “It’s not the best place for it,” he said slowly. “And aren’t you hurt?”

            “Neither was beside the Chantry,” she reminded him. “And I feel pretty damn good right now.”

            “Is that what we’re going to do? Be intimate in inappropriate places?”

            She almost stopped paying attention when he said be intimate, wanting that, but she sighed. “Well, no, but we don’t really have an appropriate place right now because anyone outside is going to see us going to a tent.”

            His lips pursed. “They know we’re in here.”

            They wouldn’t think that they would be doing anything inappropriate though, not in the strategy tent. But she didn’t say it. Lifting up on her toes as much as she could, she kissed him again. “I know,” she murmured. “We’re heading out tomorrow, right?”

            Cullen frowned at her. “Yes. Deeper into the Western Approach.”

            “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

            His frown deepened. “Yes,” he said slowly.

            Dropping back onto her heels, she wriggled out of his arms and gave him a smile. “Alright. Try to get some sleep, Cullen. You need to rest too.”

            He was still staring at her, as if he couldn’t believe she was walking away from him after what they had been talking about. Not that she wanted to, but she wasn’t going to push when he didn’t seem to want to right now.

            She started to move away before she paused to look back at him. “Although, I won’t protest if you happen to find your way to my tent later,” she said honestly.

            When he didn’t say anything, she gave him another smile as she walked toward the tent’s entrance.

            “Elora.”

            Her feet froze at her name, a small gasp leaving her at the way he said it. Glancing at him over her shoulder, she licked her lips. “Cullen?”

            His chest expanded and sank as he breathed slowly but he was staring at the map on the table, not at her. She didn’t miss the way his hands were curling into fists before flaring back out.

            “Do you…not want me to leave?” she asked gently.

            “Maker, no,” he muttered.

            Turning back to him, she quietly came back to him and gently put her hand on his arm. “We can talk about the mission tomorrow.”

            “Elora,” he groaned, “I don’t want to talk about missions or strategies.”

            “Then are we…?”

            His hands latched onto her hips and he tugged her back in front of him. “I don’t know,” he muttered, leaning down to her. “I don’t know.”

            Running her hands up his chest, she slowly kneaded at his shoulders. “We haven’t had much time together since Haven,” she said quietly. “Restoring Skyhold and getting the Inquisition running properly. Me needing to heal from Haven. It hasn’t really given us much time to really just…be around each other.”

            He was squeezing her hips in almost the same motion she was using on his shoulders. “We really haven’t,” he agreed.

            She leaned into him, lifting on her toes a bit so she could thread her fingers behind his neck. “Wanna make out, Commander?” she asked, wiggling her brows at him.

            Cullen snorted. “Not when you say it like that.”

            Pulling gently on him, she murmured, “Shut up and kiss me, Cullen.”

            He was smiling faintly as their mouths met but she didn’t care, sighing against him. It turned into a gasp when his arms slid around her, lifting her off the ground as he took a step forward. Her legs bumped into the table as he set her on it, parting for him almost immediately. She hooked her heels behind his knees to keep him there, trying to tell herself not to move against him, to focus on the kiss but it was hard. Especially when one of his hands came up to tip her head back and he deepened the kiss.

            His lips were warm as they slid against hers and it felt like it had been too long since he had kissed her. They were really going to need to work out some kind of balance between work and play. Because she really wanted to play with him more.

            With that thought in mind, she let one hand trail down his chest toward his belt. He hissed against her as she tugged on his zipper, pulling back slightly.

            “Please let me,” she whispered. “Let me do this.”

            Cullen was breathing heavily, his breath fanning her face. “You don’t have to,” he said lowly.

            She wanted to. Maker, did she ever want to. “Yes, I do,” Elora breathed. “Will you let me?”

            “It won’t look good if someone finds us,” he groaned, his hips rocking slightly as she cupped him through his pants.

            “None of this would look good if someone found us. Shouldn’t we enjoy it as much as we can before then?”

            A shuddering moan left him and she thought she heard a thread of amusement in it. “We shouldn’t.”

            “But do you want me to?” she murmured.

            “Yes,” he groaned. “Maker, _yes_.”

            Elora smiled happily. “Switch with me.”

            He slowly did, keeping her close as she slid off the table and they turned. He was staring down at her, his mouth open as he continued to breathe heavily. She could see the anticipation on his face, the hope for whatever she was going to do and the desire he was trying to hide. His eyes went wide when she sunk to her knees in front of him. “Elora, you really don’t, I mean, if you want to, but what if-”

            “Shh, Cullen,” she said gently, undoing his belt. “It’s late enough, there shouldn’t be anyone coming here.”

            The table creaked behind him as he leaned heavily on it when she got his pants loose enough to tug them down a little. “Andraste preserve me,” he whispered.

            She started to smile as she gave another tug to his pants but she bit down on her lip as she bared him and nearly echoed the saying. Her gaze flicked up to his face again before back down.

            She wasn’t at all ready for him to jump with a sharp noise when she touched him and she quickly pulled back.

            “Sorry,” he said when she stared at him. “Your hands are, ah, cold.”

            Her shoulders slumped and she laughed softly. “Sorry,” she repeated, lifting her hands to gently puff air on them and try to warm them up with a little bit of magic. “I didn’t think of that.”

            He shook his head. “It’s alright. Maybe we should-Elora,” he groaned, his head falling back as she took him in hand again.

            “Better?” she murmured, slowly stroking him. He wasn’t fully erect yet and she kept moving her hand, licking her lips as he hardened further against her palm.

            “Yes,” he breathed.

            Running her free hand up his thigh, she slid it under his shirt, feeling the muscles clench as she did. She pressed her palm flat to his stomach and heard him exhale slowly. “You sure?” she asked softly. “You’re trembling.”

            He licked his lips, looking away from her. She noticed colour tinting the shell of his ear and she regretted saying anything. “I…It’s been a long time since anyone has….” He trailed off, almost self-consciously. “It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted anyone enough to let this….”

            “I’m nervous too,” she admitted. “I…haven’t done this in a while either. I can stop if you’d like?

            “No!” he said shortly, the word rushing out of him and making him blush more. “I mean, unless you want to.”

            “I really don’t,” Elora said softly, her gaze lowering. She’d been stroking him the entire time, not willing to let him go just yet. A soft hum left her as she saw the bead of precum forming at the tip and she looked up at him quickly. “You’re sure?”

            He was breathing heavily, his eyes bright as he nodded. “Yes, Elora. I want this.” The last word came out as a moan as she leaned forward at his first one and ran her tongue over the tip of him.

            Humming again, Elora didn’t hesitate to take him into her mouth. She heard him suck in a short breath and he might have sworn but she didn’t register it fully. Sliding down him, she moved her hand with her and held the base of him. She slowly pulled back, sucking and dragging her tongue along the bottom of him. When only the tip of him was in her mouth, she swirled her tongue around him.

            She felt the muscles in his stomach flex again, quivering under her fingers as she didn’t stop. Her gaze moved up to watch him, loving the unguarded pleasure on his face. He was staring at her from under his lashes, watching her hotly as she held him just inside her mouth. “El-Oh, Maker,” he groaned as she sucked gently on him.

            One of his hands cupped the back of her head as she slid down him again, his fingers digging into her loose hair. He pushed lightly on her as she held him in her mouth but he didn’t keep her there when she pulled back.

            Letting him slip out of her mouth, she stroked him steadily. Her lips were brushing against the tip as her hand moved over him and her tongue snaked out to flick against him. She lightly scraped her nails down his stomach, following the trail of hair down until she lightened her touch and cupped his balls.

            “Shit,” he barked, his hips jerking forward before he caught himself. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t….”

            “It’s fine, Cullen,” Elora assured him, glad she hadn’t had him in her mouth.

            A shaking breath left him, the tail end of it sounding like a wheeze. His eyes were open again, watching her as she pressed wet kisses along the side of his cock. “Sweet Maker, you…,” he groaned.

            “Are you always so chatty?” she murmured.

            “Ah, no. Oh, that, Elora. That.”

            She hummed softly and continued sucking on his sac. She could feel his legs shaking, desperate little noises leaving him as she didn’t pull away. Her hand was running over his length, twisting as she reached the head and squeezing lightly as she slid it back down.

            She had thought he was breathing hard before but now his chest was heaving and she could hear his laboured breaths. His hips were moving slightly, small rocks that she wasn’t sure were going to last. He was mumbling again, soft words under his breath and she was sure she caught her name-or some variation of it-a time or two.

            He groaned as she pulled away from him with a wet pop. “You’re enjoying this.”

            “Oh, yes,” she breathed, taking him again.

            “Maker,” he swore, curling forward over her and pulling his hips back. “Elora. Elora, Maker, I can’t. You can’t.”

            She didn’t stop, using mouth and both hands to stroke his length. The sounds he was making only spurred her on, wanting to hear more, wanting him to lose his control. She wanted him so bad. Shifting on her knees, she ignored the ache that was filling her. It wasn’t about her right now.

            Her eyes flicked up when a choked gasp left him and she saw his eyes were screwed shut, his mouth open. It was the only warning she got before he was coming in her mouth.

            Swallowing in surprise, she pulled back a little as his hips jerked forward, pushing him deeper than she wanted. But she kept him in her mouth, her hands moving to grip his pants to keep him from getting away from her. He was still gasping, short half-words leaving him as her tongue moved over him.

            When he finally stilled, she kept him in her mouth for a moment longer, lightly sucking as she swallowed the last of his release. She slowly pulled away from him, sitting back on her heels and keeping her grip on his pants.

            Elora couldn’t help licking her lips as she looked up at him, feeling far too proud of herself. He hadn’t moved far from his position since he had came; although he seemed to be leaning heavily on the table. His mouth was open as he still panted for air, colour splashed across his face and down his neck. The hand in her hair was slowly kneading at the back of her head while the other was clenched around the edge of the table.

            Cullen blew out a harsh breath and looked down at her. “Fuck,” he whispered.

            “Something wrong?”

            He shook his head slowly but she thought she saw something flicker across his face. “Elora, I’m sorry th-”

            “For what?” she interrupted. “If you think I didn’t enjoy that, you’re wrong.”

            Cullen stared down at her, his shoulders slumping slightly as a small smile curled his mouth. “Alright.”

            She was sad when his hand slid out of her hair but she took it as he held it out to her. He helped her up, turning them so she was against the table now. “Now what, Commander?” she murmured as he fixed his pants with shaking hands.

            Hot eyes flicked up to hers and she stopped breathing. Oh. She recognized that look. She had only seen it the once outside of the Chantry but she recognized it. “Your turn,” he said softly. “If you want it.”

            She was expecting it but she still moaned when his hand slid between her legs, pressing up through her pants. “Oh,” she said slowly, “yes.”

            He didn’t let up, slowly rubbing his fingers back and forth over her. His gaze stayed on her face as she pushed against him, rolling her body to try to get more. “Maker, you are beautiful,” he whispered.

            “I’m horny,” she complained, pulling a laugh from him.

            “Is that my fault?”

            “Yes,” she moaned and he laughed again.

            “How’s that?” he asked, leaning forward to gently kiss her face.

            How wasn’t it? Seeing him day in and day out and not being able to do more than talk to her Commander? “I’m not good at this,” she whispered, shifting on her feet. “Seeing you, wanting you, but can’t.”

            His lips lingered against her temple for a moment. “I know the feeling,” Cullen said softly. “You’re always right there but just out of reach.”

            She arched her back, rubbing against his chest. “I don’t like it.”

            He kissed her again. “We can’t do anything about it yet. But right now…now we can have this.”

            Pleasure hummed through her and she nearly yelled when his hand left her. But he quickly pulled on her belt and pants. She couldn’t stop from wriggling her hips a little, trying to get the fabric down a little further for him. Not that it mattered since her panties stayed right where they are.

            He didn’t seem to care much because his hand slid into her underwear without hesitation.

            “Oh, fuck,” she whispered as touched her, rising up on her toes. She edged onto the table a bit, letting it take some of her weight as she tried to spread her legs for him. Some of his fingers were spreading her so his middle finger could rub large circles around her exposed clit.

            Her mouth fell open as his finger slid lower, gathering some of her arousal before coming back to focus on her clit again. A whimper left her as the calluses on his fingers felt rough against her but it was good. Fucking Maker, it was so good. She was so used to her own fingers touching herself but to have his?

            “Cullen,” she moaned.

            His lips brushed her cheekbone before he moved down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “You’re so wet,” he breathed against her. “Just like before.”

            Biting her lip, she didn’t respond to him. How could she respond to that? All she did was roll into the touch.

            “Move back, Elora. Get up on the table,” he urged gently.

            “I don’t,” she started, stopping with a moan. “I’m heavy.”

            “You’re not,” he growled. “You were on it before.”

            She hesitated and whined when his hand slowed between her legs. “Cullen,” she protested.

            “Up, Elora.”

            Chewing on her lower lip, she braced her hands on the table and lifted herself up. She held her breath as she settled on it, waiting to hear it creak but it never came.

            “See?” Cullen breathed.

            She still wasn’t sure she trusted this. “I’m not sure-Oh,” she moaned as he started again.

            He chuckled softly, clearly pleased with himself.

            Leaning back from him, Elora tried to keep herself up on the table and to not moan deeply as his hand slid further into her panties. He was watching her hotly, almost like he was daring her to moan but she knew she couldn’t. Just like at Haven, they were surrounded by others and one loud noise tonight would certainly draw attention. They didn’t have a celebration going on around them to muffle the noises she’d make. Even if he’d deployed a lot of the troops from the area, she wasn’t going to.

            Her breath hitched as he slipped a finger inside her and he groaned when she tightened around him.

            “Maker’s breath, Elora,” he murmured.

            She felt her arms shake before a small squeak left her as she collapsed back onto the table. She had a moment of panic as she felt it wobble but it still held which was good because Cullen hadn’t moved. If anything she thought he’d pulled her pants further down.

            “I want you to promise me something,” he said lowly, moving his hand.

            “Oh, fuck, what?” she asked, shaking legs wrapping around him to pull him closer.

            “Next time,” Cullen growled, “we’re going to be alone, behind locked doors.”

            “Okay,” she sighed.

            “Because I want you naked, Elora,” he breathed, his free hand grasping her hip and squeezing. “Maker, I want you naked.”

            “Later,” Elora whimpered.

            “Yes, later,” he agreed. “Right now, I want you to come for me.”

            She moaned as his finger curled inside her, pressing against that spot within her. She jerked as his thumb brushed against her clit and she squeezed him again. Papers crumpled as her hands fisted in the reports and she barely caught the cry as Cullen eased a second finger inside her. Twisting on the table, she couldn’t get far with her legs wrapped around him and all it did was move his hand against her.

            A soft wheeze left her when Cullen moved the hand on her hip to her stomach to hold her to the table. She tried to push him off but he held and she collapsed on the table.

            Staring up at the ceiling of the tent, she watched the lights sway as a wind kicked up or maybe the table was rocking under her. She didn’t know. His fingers were pumping into her, the wet sounds of it filling the tent. Her lashes fluttered as she tried to keep her eyes open but it didn’t last.

            Cullen’s thumb rubbed against her stomach, her shirt lifted enough that he was touching skin. “Maker, look at you,” he breathed.

            She didn’t want him to look at her. She just wanted him to push her over that edge. She was so close. Last time he’d done this, this was where they’d had to stop. She didn’t want to stop. She never wanted him to stop. “Oh, there,” she moaned, pushing up off the table. “There!”

            Maker bless him, he didn’t stop at how loud her voice had gotten. He didn’t pause, he didn’t do anything but keep working his fingers into her.

            One hand moved to cover her mouth, the paper still clutched in it as her fist pressed to her lips. It didn’t do much to muffle her cry as she climaxed and at that moment she didn’t care. Helpless noises spilled out of her as she trembled on the table, shaking as pleasure filled her. Her heels hooked behind his legs and tugged him toward her, wanting more contact even as his hand slowed between her thighs.

            She was whimpering softly as she gasped for air, the sounds loud in her ears in the sudden silence in the tent. But she gradually became aware of Cullen breathing almost as hard as she was. With effort, she moved her hand and lifted her head to look at him. She squirmed a little when she saw that he was looking at her. “Uhm….”

            “Uhm,” he echoed, slowly pulling his fingers out of her.

            Elora bit down on her lip, not sure if she wanted to watch him as he licked his fingers clean but unable to look away. “Oh,” she wavered.

            One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Come here,” he said softly, holding out his hands to her.

            Hers were shaking as she reached for him and a disgruntled noise left her when she realised she was still holding the reports. Cullen laughed softly as she let them go before gently pulling her upright when her hands were in his. “Hi,” she whispered, clutching his shirt.

            He didn’t answer her, kissing her instead. Her hands tightened on him as she moaned softly but she protested quickly when he pulled away. “Shush,” he murmured. “Don’t think I don’t want to because I do. Maker, I do.”

            But they had pushed their luck enough for one evening. Sliding her hands up and around his neck, she gave him a tug so his forehead was resting on hers. “You’re right,” she mumbled, curling her fingers into his hair. “Next time needs a locked door.”

            “And a bed,” he agreed.

            Yes, that sounded heavenly. “Are you sure we have to run this mission?”

            The smile stayed put this time. “It won’t take long, Elora,” he assured her. “We’ll be back at Skyhold before we know it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is truly overdue and I'm sorry for the extended wait for it. I had serious issues getting this chapter to work with me even with the slight resurgence of inspiration and the planning of the next few chapters. But it's done now and hopefully the next won't be so hard to write!

**Author's Note:**

> A few bits of information in case you're confused.
> 
> The story takes place with all the technology and wonders that we have today, but there's still magic and dragons and darkspawn and so on. Magic and science are two separate fields but they overlap a lot to work together in solving problems and developing new technology.
> 
> The timeline is a little messed up. The story starts before Anders blows up the Chantry but it'll still be ten years since the Blight ended. If you have any questions, I'll be more than happy to attempt to explain what this mess is, but in the mean time, thanks for reading!


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